Chapter 2
Chapter Two
The swing of the fist, which Idris kind of expected, thankfully didn’t hurt as it poked him in the chest. Had she aimed higher and bopped his nose? Things might have gone quite differently.
Rather than look frightened at being confronted, the woman, who’d introduced herself on stage in the bar as Svetlana, pursed her lips and looked peeved—and still managed to look cute.
“What do you want? And before you ask, I’m not for sale.
” She spoke perfect English, a relief, since his Russian consisted of pivo, AKA beer, and ukhodite, go away.
“I’m not interested in you.” Not entirely true, Svetlana had a tight bod and a pretty face that he did find attractive. However, he’d not sought her out looking to get laid. “I’m here about your bear.”
“Yuri is fine.”
“I’d hardly call having him perform like some circus monkey fine,” Idris muttered.
The show and its theatrics left a bad taste in his mouth.
So why had he gone to watch? Blame the flyer stapled outside the ramshackle apartment that he rented by the month.
The advertisement had promised to dazzle and amaze.
Usually, Idris would have ignored it, as he didn’t approve of animals being kept in captivity, even more so now since his ordeal at the hands of the military.
However, curiosity had won out. He’d even shown up early so he could score a seat where he could have his back to the wall.
A man in his situation couldn’t be too cautious.
The venue ended up with quite the crowd. He almost fled before the show started. Mixing rowdy people with booze often resulted in bar fights, not something he used to mind, but now, given what happened when he got hurt, he tried to avoid those types of situations.
Idris ended up staying as he realized folks had come to be entertained and weren’t spoiling for trouble.
While they oohed and aahed over the antics of the bear, Idris, however, found himself less than impressed once he realized Yuri was a therianthrope.
He could tell by the eyes. They always gave it away.
In this case, while bears and humans had similar-looking orbs, bears’ pupils were always a shade of brown—never blue.
Another bear shifter, just like him. Oh, the questions he had to ask of someone with his condition. There was an immediate sense of comradery at finding out he wasn’t alone. The shock and excitement at the unexpected discovery almost propelled Idris from his seat to rush the stage.
Conscious of the audience, he instead forced himself to watch the bear degrade itself for a bunch of drunks, dancing to the tune of the petite woman currently standing before him, arms crossed.
Not a hint of fear oozed from her, which he found interesting. Most females, alone at night, confronted by a stranger his size, would have shown panic. Svetlana, however, oozed annoyance.
“You animal activists are so annoying.” She rolled her eyes. “Yuri enjoys performing and is well taken care of because of it. Or do you think it’s easy and cheap to feed someone his size?”
Knowing the depths of his own appetite, Idris didn’t doubt it cost a fortune, but he’d not come here to chastise about her choice in career. Might as well get right to the point. “I know he’s a therianthrope.”
Her brow furrowed, her excellent English not extending to the uncommon word. “I don’t know what you mean, nor do I care. I would suggest you depart before something unpleasant happens.”
“Going to hit me again?” He couldn’t have said why he teased.
“And hurt my fist?” she scoffed. “I’ll leave the pummeling to Yuri.” She uttered a sharp whistle, and a grunt could be heard from inside the covered truck.
“I think Yuri might be a little drunk.” The amount of booze the bear downed had been impressive.
“Very definitely sotted and most likely irritated at being woken from his nap,” she added as the tarp covering the rear rustled.
“Listen, I’m not looking for trouble. I just want to t—”
He never finished that sentence because a large furry body hurtled through the flap, smacking into Idris, sending him to the ground. The hard impact didn’t cause enough pain to shift him; however, the claws that dug into his shoulders did.
Ouch and bam. Idris shifted, shredding his clothes, which would be inconvenient later when he had to return to his apartment naked.
But in good news, the injury from the claws healed, and his transformation caused enough surprise that the other bear slightly recoiled.
It gave Idris the space he needed to place his paws against the other furry chest and shove.
Idris then rolled to his four feet and engaged in a staring match with the other beast.
Would Yuri back off? Surely the other therianthrope would be curious and—
Rawr.
The other bear lunged with its mouth wide open, showing impressive teeth.
Rather than take the brunt of the charge, Idris side-stepped and quickly stood on his two hind legs.
He leaned over to grab the other bear, digging claws into furry flesh, in the hopes of making Yuri change so they could have a civilized conversation.
Despite the bleeding wounds, Yuri remained a bear and thrashed wildly, tearing the wounds even wider.
Idris retracted his grip, not wanting to seriously harm.
Alas, Yuri didn’t recognize his attempt at concession.
He lunged again, this time choosing to attack on two feet, swinging those massive paws.
Slug. Smack. Thud. The blows impacted, but Idris managed to hold on to this shape, the glasses of beer he’d had earlier helping him to not feel pain, a coping mechanism that he didn’t particularly care for but that somewhat worked.
Slap. Smack. Dodge. Thud.
The paws-icuffs might have gone on longer if Svetlana hadn’t laughed and said, “I wonder how much people would pay to watch you two fight?”
She thought this was funny?
Both Idris and Yuri ceased their grappling and found common ground glaring at her.
Svetlana smirked. “Are you done being animals? I’m hungry and thirsty. When you’re ready to be civilized, I’ll be in the truck.”
With that, she clambered past the canvas flap, leaving Idris and Yuri to stand there awkwardly.
The other man shifted first, the wounds and fur disappearing to leave behind a large, golden-haired male with distinctive blue eyes.
Would you look at that? The man could control his shape.
Must be nice. As for Idris, he punched himself in the snout hard enough he blinked.
The sharp pain brought on the transformation, leaving him naked in the cold night.
“Why did you hit yourself?” Yuri asked in perfect English, staring at Idris in puzzlement.
“Pain is how I transform.”
“But that was barely a tap,” exclaimed Yuri.
“I’m aware,” his dry reply. “I have a problem where the slightest pain causes me to change shape. I’ve been working at having better control. Made some progress. I no longer spontaneously shift when I drink really hot coffee.”
Yuri’s mouth rounded. “How have you managed to survive this long without being shot?”
“Not easily, which is why I’m glad I found you. You’re the first bear therianthrope I’ve met.”
“Therianthrope as in teriantrop?” Yuri used an obviously Russian word.
“Assuming it means person who can change into an animal, then yes.”
Yuri pursed his lips. “This is very unusual. I did not think Americans could be blessed by Veles.”
“I’m Canadian, actually, and who is Veles?”
“Canadian. American. Same thing.” Yuri scoffed. “You’re not Russian, so how is it you managed to have our shapeshifting god bless you with this gift?”
“Wasn’t a god that did this to me,” Idris’s grim reply. “I’ll tell you my story, but do you mind if we do it somewhere without our dicks hanging out for everyone to see?” While the campground section they found themselves in appeared vacant, he’d rather not deal with someone randomly passing by.
Yuri glanced at Idris’ shredded clothes on the ground and smirked. “I should have something that will fit.” Yuri lifted the flap and beckoned Idris to follow.
“I assume your wife won’t shoot me if I come inside?”
“Wife? Ha.” Yuri snorted. “As if I’d marry that zemleroyka. Svetlana is my sister.”
“Is she a therianthrope too?”
“No. Only I was blessed.” Yuri shook his head.
As they entered the rear of the truck, Idris noticed it had been arranged into an apartment with two beds.
A wide one on the floor and a slimmer bunk bolted above it.
Two worn armchairs sat across from a TV bolted to the frame holding the canvas covering.
Svetlana knelt by a small woodstove and fed it some kindling.
She glanced over her shoulder and arched a brow. “No fighting inside.”
Idris dropped his hands to cover his junk and cleared his throat. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Ma’am.” She snorted. “My name is Svetlana.”
“Here’s some clothing.” Yuri dug into a duffel bag and tossed Idris a well-worn sweatshirt and pants. Idris quickly dressed, feeling better now that his cold-shriveled dick could hide.
“I’m Idris, by the way,” he stated as Svetlana moved to a cupboard and pulled out several cans.
“He’s Canadian,” Yuri added.
“Far from home,” she remarked, cracking open the aluminum containers and handing one to her brother. Yuri drank the stew from the can, but she grabbed a spoon before sitting in a chair.
“I had to leave Canada. A few close calls and a need for answers sent me to Europe.”
“Answers to what?” she asked, sucking the hunk of meat and gravy from her spoon in a way that distracted.
“The bear thing.” Then because her brow furrowed, he quickly added, “I wasn’t born this way.”
“No one is,” she snorted.
He blinked. “Wait, are you saying your brother became a therianthrope because of a medical experiment, too?”
She stared at him. “Yuri was blessed by a god as a teen. He suffered a terrible accident and would have died, but Veles intervened, gave him the power of shifting shapes, and saved his life.”
Ignoring the god part, what Idris heard was that Yuri suffered a traumatic injury, which stimulated his shift. So maybe not so different after all.
“In my case, my own military took me prisoner and injected me with a serum that caused me to turn into a bear every time I get hurt.”
Yuri leaned down and, in a whisper that might as well have been a shout, said, “A simple punch to the nose and he changed shapes.”
The claim arched Svetlana’s brow. “Your military did this to you?”
Idris nodded. “Me and a bunch of other soldiers. We managed to escape and split up, mostly so the general in charge of Project Therianthrope couldn’t easily find us.”
“How many bears did this general make?” Svetlana frowned.
“Just me. Of those who managed to escape, a few could turn into tigers with the rest shifting into wolves.”
She stared at Idris so long he felt a need to say, “Those injecting us with the serum couldn’t predict what animal we’d turn into.” He didn’t mention the fact that a few died because their other shape couldn’t handle breathing air or the transformation process.
“Your military played god.” She sounded disapproving.
“They did, and now I’m trying to find a way to either get rid of this curse or to control it.”
“How can you not know how to control?” Yuri interjected. “It is as simple as breathing. I wish to be a bear. I am a bear. I wish to be a man. I am a man.”
“Must be nice to have it work that neatly. Like you saw outside, I don’t have that kind of command over it. I get hurt, I change. Man. Bear. Doesn’t matter. It’s instant each time.”
“Making you useless for a sparring act.” Svetlana sighed. “Pity. It would have been lucrative. People enjoy seeing a bear doing tricks, but a pair fighting...”
“Maybe we could do like the wrestlers and fake it?” Yuri suggested.
“As if they wouldn’t notice you’re holding back punches,” she scoffed.
“Um, I didn’t come here to be part of your show,” Idris interjected.
“Then why?” She leaned back in her seat and waited for a reply.
“Because I realized your brother was like me and thought he could help. This shapeshifting thing is still pretty new to me.”
“You want advice? Learn to not be a baby when you get hurt.” Yuri shook his head. “It’s embarrassing.”
“No shit, and easier said than done,” Idris muttered.
“I’m sorry, but we can’t help you.” Svetlana shot him down.
Disappointment filled Idris, and his shoulders slumped. “Thanks for hearing me out.”
“What will you do now?” Svetlana asked.
“Go back to the shithole I’m renting. I’ve got work in the morning.”
“Doing what?”
“Logging. The overseer doesn’t care I’m not Russian, and they pay cash.” Idris shrugged. “It covers the bills.”
“Sounds hard.” Yuri grimaced. “Much better to drink and be silly for a few hours a night.”
“The drinking part I like, but pretending I’m a circus bear?” Idris grimaced. “I’d probably end up smacking someone if they made fun of me.”
Svetlana’s lips curved. “It was hard for Yuri at first. And we had a few incidents. But that was before we started encouraging the patrons to give him vodka.”
“Now I drink for free and make lots of rubles,” Yuri proudly stated.
“Well, best of luck to you both.”
“Will you come to the show tomorrow night?” Svetlana asked as Idris put his hand on the canvas flap.
Seeing as how he’d not enjoyed it, probably not. But what did he reply to the pretty woman? “Maybe.”