Chapter 7
Gary twitched as he tried to stay awake.
They drove in his handicapped-accessible van, Margaret at the wheel while his father directed. The streets were nearly empty, probably because of the quarantine.
He was clipped into his wheelchair in back, his body drooping with fatigue. His father had told him it was a miracle he was awake at all; most shifters slept for more than a day after a First Shift. But his mind was wide awake and spinning.
Hope. It was insane to have again. After his accident he’d looked at one crazy cure after another.
If it was on the Internet, he’d read it.
If something said it stimulated neural growth, he’d taken it or used it or prayed to it.
He’d never gotten use of his legs back, even for a moment. Until this morning.
Not that he believed this would work, exactly. But that was like trying to not look at paradise. He couldn’t not look. He thought. He hoped. And now they might be on the way to a miracle.
He let his eyes drift closed. In his head, he saw himself with Margaret.
He pulled out her chair at a restaurant in Paris, held the door for her as they walked into a Broadway theater.
He carried her to a bed where he spent the night pleasuring her body until she realized she loved sex.
And if she really wasn’t wired for that, he would still love her as much as he did now.
But, what if she just needed a man who was patient and understanding?
He wanted to at least offer her that possibility—and to do it with a fully functioning body.
The van stopped, and Gary jerked his head upright. Margaret was staring at him, concerned.
“I’m fine,” he growled.
“No, you’re not. And I’d feel a whole lot better about this if you quit the macho shit and talked.”
He arched a brow. “Now you want to talk?”
She sighed. “Not about m—”
“I know,” he interrupted, then forced his tone to soften. “You want me to talk? Okay, I admit it. I’m spinning.” He arched a brow. “Get it? Spinning? A wheelchair joke.”
She groaned, in no way amused, but his father chuckled while opening the van door. “Becoming a shifter is a lot to handle.” He started unclipping Gary’s wheelchair. “But I can’t say as I regret you making this change. Feels like I can finally talk to you.”
“We could always talk,” Gary countered. Though his parents divorced when he was young, his father had been at ball games and graduations, had let him tag along on plumbing jobs and even paid for his tux at prom. They’d talked about the birds and bees and safe sex—way too early for Gary’s taste.
His father hit the button on the wheelchair ramp. “We could talk,” he agreed, “but I couldn’t tell you everything. Like, who I am. Who you are. Now I can show it to you.”
His father’s joy was palpable and a stark contrast to Margaret’s worry. Gary extended a hand to her, and she took it, keeping pace with his wheelchair as his father pushed.
“Margaret—”
“Just swear you’ll tell me before you do anything. You don’t have to listen to my advice, but…just let me know.” Her expression was level. “I know more about your medical situation than anyone but you. If you’re going to leap before you look, at least let me try to catch you.”
It was true. She did know more than anyone about his condition. He’d shut out his mother because she hovered too much.
“Deal.” He squeezed Margaret’s hand. “No major decisions without talking to you.”
She returned the squeeze then hit him with a zinger. “In return, I’ll forgive you for bringing up my issues while in the middle of yours.”
Ouch. Had he really focused on her sexual issues rather than handle his own hope for a miracle? Maybe. “Fair enough,” he said. “But don’t forgive me too much. I’ll make time for your issues again as soon as I’m through with mine.”
He saw her grimace in acknowledgment, but she didn’t argue.
The front door of the hardware store was shoved open by a handsome Hispanic man. “Sorry,” the guy said, looking surprised.
“Hey, Mateo, meet my son Gary. He had his first shift last night!”
Mateo’s eyes lit up as he noticed who was speaking, and then he looked down at Gary. “Congratulations! Your first shift? You’re a little old for it, though, aren’t you?”
Gary’s father shrugged. “It was the water. Kicked him over into full bear.”
“Ah. You were drinking the water? Shouldn’t do that. Not until we figure out how to end the stinkies.”
“He’s not a hybrid,” his father said, a little harshly, and Gary was having trouble taking it all in. “He turned full grizzly. He’s one of us now.”
Mateo blew out a low whistle. “Welcome then!” He held open the door and gestured inside. “Alyssa and Simon are out, but Vic’s here.” He made a face. “Bring your gas mask. He’s full stinky.”
“I heard that,” came a grumbly voice. “And I’ve got the smell under control!”
Mateo shook his head and raised his voice so it carried. “Look for the ugly one, then.”
“Everyone’s a comedian,” said a tall black man from inside.
At least, Gary thought the guy had probably begun as a tall black man.
It was hard to tell since his head and arms were furry.
Bare feet and hands—er, paws—too. But the man’s torso and legs were normal.
His hips seemed enlarged, and the basketball shorts—the only thing he wore—looked a little too tight.
“Ever stare too long at a Picasso?” Margaret murmured, and Gary almost laughed. This guy really did seem like a jumble of man and grizzly parts. And yet, everything seemed to work.
“What are you doing here, Ray?” the guy asked, his voice slightly distorted by his grizzly bear–like mouth. “You’re no good to me until after you’ve rested.”
“I brought my son. He went through the first shift last night. Gary, this is the Griz beta. Name’s Vic.”
Gary held out his hand. “I have no idea what that means, but I’m pleased to meet you.”
Vic offered a paw and Gary tensed. He had no idea how to grip the huge thing.
But just before they connected, the arm changed, as did the rest of the bear parts.
There was a split-second blast of heat, and then suddenly Gary was gripping a human hand.
Beside him, he heard Margaret’s breath hitch in surprise.
“See what I did there?” Vic said with a grin toward Gary’s father. “Straight back to human. No one can tell I’m a hybrid.”
Gary’s father snorted. “Unless they got a nose.”
Vic glared. “I’m getting it under control!” Then he focused on Gary. “So, you a full bear? Or halfsies like me?”
“Can’t you tell? My boy smells as sweet as a newborn.” Gary’s father turned. “No full shifter has that stink.”
“Which I’m getting under control,” Vic repeated.
“But partials can shift with less difficulty and fatigue, so that’s a plus.”
Beside Gary, Margaret sniffed the air. “It’s not so bad.”
“See!” Vic crowed. Then he gestured them to follow him into the depths of the building.
They did, taking in the huge space. There were no partitions that Gary could see, just tables and desks to the left and a mishmash of bears sleeping to the right.
And what a sight that was! Large pillows lay everywhere, but for the most part, it was fur and more fur, with muzzles, paws, and sharp claws going every which way.
Vic must have seen his bemusement, because he paused and waited, saying, “Most people can’t go bear more than once every few days. Easier to have them stay grizzly right now. In case we need them.”
“But how…?” Margaret sounded confused. “I mean, they’re bears. They can’t walk around the city like that.”
“No, they can’t,” Vic confirmed. “Most of them drove here and then shifted, and they’ll change back after the crisis is over. They’re here to protect home base.”
Gary’s father jolted. “You expect an attack? What have you heard?”
Vic held up his hand. “Don’t ask me for details. I’m just second in command, and Simon doesn’t tell me shit. But we’re the ones who figured out the Detroit Flu is a poison and not a virus, a poison that was used on the entire city. It makes sense for us to be ready for anything.”
At that moment Gary noticed a huge black bear pace past, making a slow circle of the entire building. On guard.
Vic peered at Gary. “So, you’re new to the club? Mind if I cut to the chase?”
Gary frowned, confused. “Um, no. What—?”
“Are you paralyzed as a bear?”
Gary took a deep breath, trying to calm his chaotic emotions. “No. Everything functions as far as I can tell.”
“Cool. And…how often can you do it? Oh wait, you just shifted for the first time. You probably don’t know.”
“That’s why we’re here,” Margaret interjected. “We want to talk to one of your doctors.”
Vic shook his head. “You can’t right now.” He pointed to one of the sleeping grizzlies. “That’s our pediatrician, and Dr. Lu—that’s the CDC doc—is at the hospital with Hank. She’s new to the whole fur thing, anyway.”
Gary’s father took a step forward. “What about the ocelot shifter in Ann Arbor? Dr. Sherilyn.” He glanced back at Gary. “We’ve only got a couple shifter docs here in the city, but there’re others outside Detroit who’ve been helping.”
Vic nodded. “Right. The number’s on Alyssa’s desk.
” He walked to a pristine workstation in the back corner of the building.
A locked tablet sat dead center. Vic turned that on with a thumb press then pulled up a contact list. “Here it is. Give me your phone number and I’ll text it to you. That way we’ll have your number too.”
It was finished in seconds, and then Vic rubbed a hand over his chin.
“Call Dr. Sherilyn. See if she can answer your questions. I’m gonna…
” He looked around. “I’m going to take a shower.
” Before walking away, he nudged Gary’s shoulder.
“Good to have you in the Den.” He waggled his eyebrows at Gary’s dad.
“Do you like that name? Don’t know why you didn’t call it that before. ’Cause bears have dens.”
Gary’s father grunted. “Careful. You’re going to make us want Nanook back.”
A visible shudder went through Vic. “That’s not funny.”
Gary wasn’t sure what was going on, but his father was immediately contrite, ducking his head and tilting it slightly to the side as if to expose his throat to Vic’s hard gaze. “You’re right. It wasn’t funny. No one wants that sick bastard back.”
“Damn straight,” Vic muttered. Then he flashed a warm smile as if nothing had happened. “Anyway, welcome. I’m—”
A cell phone chimed, and it seemed it was his.
He took two steps and a moment to find it under the mass of stuff at his workstation.
“Yeah? Hell. Okay…” He moved back and grabbed Alyssa’s tablet.
“I’ve got it. Yeah…” He wandered off, leaving Gary, Gary’s father and Margaret to look at each other.
It seemed he wasn’t taking a shower after all.
Gary held up his own phone. “I’m going to call Dr. Sherilyn.” His gaze cut to Margaret. “Do you want to look around with my dad?”
She regarded him steadily, her gaze telling him that she knew he wanted privacy to talk to the doctor.
That was true, but he also wanted her to get used to talking to shifters.
The more she felt comfortable hanging around them, the more comfortable she’d be around him, right?
And he needed her to be comfortable around him.
Oddly, he already liked these people and this place on a gut level. It didn’t make sense, but deep down it was like he was home.
His father seemed to sense that. “Gary? You’re feeling comfortable here, right? Like something has settled inside you.”
Gary nodded, startled by his father’s perception.
“The river’s close by. Every shifter in his first change needs to go back home to where his genetic line began. Your home—my home—is the River Rouge. Everything will feel better around here.”
It did. It felt right to stay in this place, to hang out with these people who felt like family even though they’d never met.
“Yes,” he finally said, smiling in acceptance.
“Yes,” his father echoed then nodded to the phone. “You call the doc. I’ll introduce Margaret around.”
“Me? But I’m not—”
“You saw my boy change, haven’t run or forgotten it, and you’ve come here—so you’re in on the shifter secret. You’re one of us.” He raised his arm in invitation for her to walk with him.
With one last hard look at Gary, she acquiesced.
Gary started dialing Dr. Sherilyn. Time for some real answers.