Chapter 12 #2
“Yeah.” The sound was more growl of fury than word, and she watched Mark struggle for a moment with his anger.
His jaw tightened, his shoulders hunched, and there might have been a thickening of the hair on his forearms. But a moment later, he seemed to get himself under control.
“The bastard had a partner, too. Crazy Cat Lady.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“A traumatized teenager isn’t going to give us the best names. All we know is that she was a woman with cat-slit eyes. Best guess from the description is a cougar.”
“Cougar-shifter, right? Not an older woman who—”
“Yeah. Shifter.”
She raised her hand, cutting him off. He froze and watched her intently while her tequila-sloshed brain reached for whatever it was that teased the edge of her consciousness. “The cat I saw. Right before the attack.”
His ears seemed to twitch. Really. But when she looked closer, everything about him appeared human-man normal except for his abnormal stillness.
“What do you remember?” he asked, his question pressed as a low rumble.
She shook her head. “A cougar, I think. Large cat, golden brown fur, gone in a split second.”
He waited for her to say more, but she didn’t have anything else. Just a quick flash before her world turned completely inside out. “Tell me more about her,” she pressed.
He shrugged, the movement obviously forced as he tried to settle his hackles. “Northern Michigan was lousy with cougars until the wolves got pissed off. Skirmish, war, blah blah blah. There’s a tentative peace now thanks to Carl, but who knows what’s really going on.”
Was he serious? He certainly looked so, but the whole thing just boggled her mind. “There was not a war in Michigan.”
“There was. A little one. The one major battle was reported as a cult massacre.”
She shook her head. “I don’t believe it. The cover-up would have to be massive.”
He blew out a breath. “Magic likes to be kept secret. No one does it. It just happens.”
She chewed on that for a while. “But now I’m in on the secret.”
“Yup. But watch what happens when you try to talk to someone about it. There will be a subliminal compulsion to keep mum. Even if you’ve never lied before in your life, you’ll misdirect your own family. You just will.”
She opened her mouth to argue, but then thought back.
Wasn’t that exactly what had happened at the hospital?
She’d started to tell her sister about the attack, but hadn’t managed to speak about grown men suddenly changing into bears.
And when she’d planned on talking to her father, she’d phrased it as a question and allowed him to laugh her into silence.
She hadn’t planned to keep silent. She just had.
“I don’t like not being in control of my actions,” she murmured.
“Tell me about it.” When her gaze shot to his, he shrugged. “It’s something all shifters get used to. Sometimes we just howl at the moon whether we choose to or not.”
She frowned. “I thought you don’t do that.”
“It’s an expression, but you’re right. Grizzlies don’t howl. We kind of moan at it.”
She stared at him, trying to decide if he was joking. When his expression turned sheepish, she realized that he was dead serious. He did moan at the moon. She started to laugh, dropping her head back against the couch as she stared at the ceiling. “This is insane.”
“I know. But you’re safe. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
She lifted her head. The way he said it was extra heavy. Like he was vowing to defend her unto death or something. “Am I really in that much danger?”
He shook his head. “We’ve got things covered.” He touched his tablet and angled the screen to her. “See? All clear.”
Like she could read anything from across the room. She didn’t even bother to look closely. She trusted him to keep her safe. That much, at least, was abundantly clear. “Last question,” she said. “Tell me the real reason you’re dying.”
He flinched, and his hands tightened into fists. “Julie—” he began, but she cut him off. The last thing she wanted to do was cause him pain.
“Look, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. But I’d really like to know. I can—”
“Next time I turn into a bear, and I’m not coming back.”
Her words stopped in her throat, and then she tilted her head, trying to sort through his words.
His tone was so matter of fact that he sounded like he was saying he was moving to Los Angeles and going California native.
Except he was talking about being a grizzly.
“Start again, please. For the nonshifter in the room.”
“For some of us—those with too much animal DNA—we lose ourselves in the animal. It’s called going feral.”
“So can’t you just…you know…not?” She asked the question already knowing it couldn’t be that simple. “Just don’t go animal.”
He snorted and pushed out of the chair. “I’ll stop the minute you stop breathing.
Or having a period. Or I don’t know, waking up and brushing your hair every morning.
This is a natural cycle. Some of us just have too much beast. I’m one of them.
Drew the unlucky DNA straw. I’ve been holding it off since I was sixteen. And now I’ve run out of time.”
The way he said that number made her pause. Like it was significant. It took her about two seconds to realize what he meant. “You’re talking about that night—our night—when we were teens.”
He dropped his hands on his hips as he looked out the window. “That’s the real reason I ran, Julie. I knew then that I was losing control and I wasn’t coming back to human.”
She stood up, needing to meet him more eye to eye. “But you did.”
“Six weeks later.”
She grimaced. Bet that was weird. Living as a bear for a month and a half, and then boom, human again. “What brought you back?”
His lips curved, and he turned to look at her. “A girl with a citrus scent making love to her boyfriend.” He shrugged. “You have a citrus scent, Julie. It reminded me of you, and I wanted you. So I changed back. I stood there naked next to their tent, barely able to speak, and hungry as hell.”
He was lost in memories, his expression stark as the evening shadows cut into his cheekbones. She stepped closer to him, touching his chest as a way to reach out because he seemed to need it. His breath hitched under her fingers, and his empty hand came up to cover hers. But he didn’t look at her.
“Citrus girl called the cops. They came and called my father. By that time, I’d eaten a box of granola bars and had started to think again. You have no idea what it’s like to claw your way back into the higher cortex.” He closed his eyes. “It’s really hard, Julie. And getting harder every time.”
And there was her answer. Hadn’t she wondered if he was bipolar?
The grizzly was the nonverbal guy who answered the door that first time.
The one who grunted at her and slammed back coffee like it was the elixir of life.
And then there was this man. Quiet, but still articulate.
The man who ran a business and installed electronic surveillance equipment around the cabin.
And according to him, that man was slipping away.
“There has to be a way to stop it,” she said.
“You sound like Carl.”
“Maybe you should list—”
He pressed his finger to her lips. It was warm against her skin, and she felt the callus as he brushed gently across her mouth.
“Don’t make yourself crazy. Carl and I have been looking since the day I came back at sixteen.
And there were others long before us. All we’ve found is vague hints, magical spells.
” He looked significantly at her. “Fairy tales.”
Her father’s research.
He nodded, probably reading her understanding off her face. “Did you never wonder why your father started researching shifter tales?”
She snorted. “Who knows what captures my father’s attention?”
“I do. I did.”
She arched her brows, waiting for him to elaborate. Eventually he spoke.
“Your father’s family is from here. Generations back.”
“Yeah. Great-great-granddad was a traveling salesman or something. Fell in love with a girl here and took her away.”
“But they came back now and then. Eventually someone bought this cabin as a summer place.”
“The older one burned down. Dad called it a rattrap.”
His lips quirked into a brief smile. “Some day I’ll tell you exactly what happened to that place.” Then before she could ask, he raised his hand. “Wasn’t me. Well before my time.”
She smiled, pleased to share this short moment of humor even if he wasn’t telling her the full truth. “So what did you do?”
“It was the next summer. The one after our night.”
“The one I decided to stay with my mother in Chicago and to intern at a law office.” It had been the first step in her path to becoming a legal secretary.
“Yeah. I talked to your dad. I really wanted to know about you, about whether or not you were coming back.” He sighed as if her decision still depressed him. “When I found out his ancestors were from here, I started asking about his family stories.”
Her eyes widened. “You got him started on the local fairy tales!”
“His grandmother had told him about a witch who bound a wolf to her. It gave her the ability to shift into animal form so she could defeat her enemies. And the wolf became a man who fought at her side.”
She brought his hand away from her mouth, clasping it between her two. “You think the wolf was a feral and she brought him back.”
“Yes. Maybe.”
Well, that sounded hopeful. “What happened at the end? Did he stay human? Did she—”
“It’s a fairy tale, Julie. Told from the human perspective.”
Clearly she was meant to understand what that meant. She hadn’t a clue.
“The good guys were the humans. They killed the witch in her wolf form and then burned the man at the stake as a warlock.”
“Oh. That sucks.”