Honey for the Bears

by Gabrielle Demonico

  “Honey, what are you talking about? What makes you think I would ever hurt you?”

  “I don’t… I mean, I don’t know. It’s just what I’ve heard about you with all of the women here in Troubled Fork.”

  “…And if I wanted to be with any of them I would. But, I don’t Honey. Not now, not ever. Beauty like that is but a common trinket. The voluptuousness you possess is the rarest of gems…”

  “No, I…” she uttered.

  But before she could react or think, his bear acted and erased any doubt about whether what he said was true.

  His mouth crashed into hers and it did, she moaned into it. His lips were tender, full and perfectly moist. Within seconds, his hulking frame pressed her lush curves against a door in the hallway. As he did, Honey accidentally switched off the light overhead.

  Now, in total darkness with nothing but the light of a pale moon to guide them, the pair began escalate their passion. As their kissing intensified, Honey’s hands started to explore the muscled rivulets than lie just beneath his shirt. Her fingers danced along the edges of his perfect V, raised abdominal ridges and granite like torso.

  Her heart pounded in her ears as his tongue made its entry into her mouth. As it slid inside, a rush of wetness pooled between Honey’s thighs. Out of reflex, she tried to draw them closed but Brock shoved one of his thick thighs between them. The narrow space between them seemed to palpitate with energy as they shared a kiss unlike any she’d ever experienced.

  Honey’s senses began to go into overdrive. She could feel the raw animal passion of his bear and she knew that she wanted all of it – the unrefined, unfiltered and unrestrained essence of everything he was. Her mind danced with visions of what might lie ahead. What it came up with did little to soothe the cruel ache between her legs.

  Honey’s body was on fire as his bear continued to ravage her. Her nipples had hardened like tiny bits of fleshy granite and her pussy quaked with anticipation as the full weight of his manhood made its presence felt against her.

  Her imagination sparkled with images of him between her thighs. She envisioned that there he would devour the essence of all she had to offer and satisfy the most carnal, unmet urges she could ever hope to conjure. Her femininity roiled with a festering need to be relieved. It had been so long since she’d been with anyone and even longer since she’d been truly gratified.

  His pelvis crushed into hers and Honey could feel that a decision would have to be made soon. Whether or not she decided to turn back, this was the time to make that choice. She was slipping away into him, there was no stopping it and as the seconds ticked by, she became more and more convinced that she didn’t want to either. The need was great and the penultimate moment was suddenly upon her. But just as she could sense they might take that great unknown step, he pulled back from her.

  Through glassy eyes, she looked up at him.

  “Honey, I…” he stammered.

  “Shhh… no.” she replied.

  He leaned his head against the wall above her and as he did, she embraced him and pressed her body into his chest. His breath came in labored gulps as he attempted to compose himself.

  Finally, he leaned away from the wall and looked down at her. She saw sadness in his eyes. Pain. In that moment, she understood.

  “I have to go…” he hesitated. “My family needs me right now.”

  “I know…” she replied.

  ***

  For the next several days, things seemed to settle down a bit in Troubled Fork.

  The only problem from Honey’s standpoint was that Brock had all but vanished as well. She wondered if her discovering the truth about him had somehow driven a wedge between them in spite of their kiss.

  It was painfully obvious that Leo and the others felt that humans weren’t to be trusted. Maybe they’d finally convinced Brock of the same thing. After all, the circumstances surrounding Kristy’s death had to be horrific and it seemed almost certain that humans had been involved in some way.

  It was hard to blame them for being guarded even if decisions made in such situations are rarely wise. Perhaps some time and distance had caused Brock to think twice about his choice to trust Honey and her friends with such sensitive information.

  But like it or not, the truth was out there now…

  The hospital was short staffed again when news came in that it had happened again – another bear attack. Honey heard the call for it come in and knew that Brock would likely be there any minute. Sure enough, within a half hour he showed up. As soon as he came in, he headed in Honey’s direction at the nurse’s station.

  “Where is the victim?” he asked.

  “He is being examined at the moment…” she replied.

  “Are the injuries life threatening?”

  “I don’t believe so but I don’t know for sure.”

  “Good, becu… Shit.” He said as reached down and pulled out his cell phone.

  “What? What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “It’s the Mayor.”

  “Oh no… Do you think that means?”

  “I don’t know. He wants to see me right away.”

  “Okay.”

  “Honey, can you come with me?”

  “Where?”

  “To the Mayor’s office…”

  “Well, I can’t. I… I’m in the middle of my shift.”

  “Honey… Isn’t there anyone who can cover for you? Please, I need you.”

  Just hearing those words from his mouth caused Honey’s heart to nearly melt.

  “I… uhm, okay. Let me see what I can do.”

  “Okay, thank you.” Brock said.

  He walked back to the entrance as Honey called everyone she could. Finally, she was able to get a hold of Marjorie who, as luck would have it, owed her a favor. Within fifteen minutes, Marjorie was at the hospital and Honey was in Brock’s truck, headed to Town Hall.

  The mayor’s secretary, Judith Cheverly, saw the pair approaching and said, “Good afternoon, Mr. Walters. Mayor Doyle will be with you in just a moment. He’s wrapping up another meeting. Please have a seat.”

  “Okay.” Brock replied. He then nodded and gestured for Honey to move towards a row of laminate chairs against the wall.

  As they sat, Brock said, “Thanks Mrs. Cheverly. How are Don and the girls?”

  “They are doing very well. Don has been talking about the Salmon Run for months. Now that it’s here at least he’ll be out of my hair for a while.” She replied.

  Brock chuckled. “Yeah, I know how Don is about his fishing. It’s always a good idea to give him plenty of room on the river.”

  Mrs. Cheverly laughed. “Well, at least when he’s out there, he’s not at home driving us up the wall.”

  “Yes, I…” Brock began. But just as he was about to speak, the door to the mayor’s office opened.

  “Well, thank you again Mayor Doyle. We really appreciate you making time for us today.”

  “My pleasure Mr. Winters. We’re always happy to talk with the press. Please feel free to stop by any time. Of course, we’d love to have you here when the news isn’t as troubling as it has been.”

  “Agreed… Well, thanks again.”

  Harlon Winters and his cameraman turned to leave and as they did, Brock stood.

  “Ahh, Mr. Walters…” Harlon said. “It’s nice to see you again. I trust you’ve been making headway with your investigation.”

  Lying, Brock nodded. “Yes, things are progressing quite well.”

  It killed him to have to conceal the truth but he figured that even a whiff of doubt would have Harlon Winters shadowing him more closely than he already was. There was still so much he didn’t know that he knew having the press involved would only make things worse. It was obvious to Honey that Harlon hadn’t gotten wind of the latest attack. She couldn’t imagine him not asking Brock a million questions about if he had…

  “Great, I’m glad to hear it.” Harlon said, “Well, if you’ll excuse us, we need to get going.�
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  “Of course…” Brock replied.

  Harlon then turned and said, “Thank you again mayor.”

  “Of course, anytime.” Mayor Doyle replied.

  Harlon smiled at Honey as he passed by. “Ma’am… nice to see you again.”

  Honey smiled back and nodded at him and the cameraman.

  After they’d gone, Brock and Honey turned back towards the mayor.

  “Brock?” the mayor said. “You ready? We need to make this quick…”

  “Yes, sir.” He replied. He then turned towards Honey and said, “Come on.”

  Mayor Doyle was a round faced man with a body to match. And, if the pictures on the wall and scattered throughout the office were any indicator, what once was a mighty colony of hair had staged a dramatic retreat from its territory right around the time his waistline had commenced an impressive counter attack.

  “And who is this with you?” the mayor said as he rounded his desk and plopped into his chair.

  “Oh this is Honey Thompson, from the hospital. She’s been assisting me in the mauling cases.”

  “I see. Well, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance Miss Thompson.”

  Honey smiled and said, “You too sir. Please, call me Honey.”

  “Alright Honey. And please, feel free to call me Thomas, Mayor Doyle or Mayor. Anything but sir…”

  “Alright…” she said as she smiled.

  Just then, Brock interrupted. “If you don’t mind me asking Mayor, why was Mr. Winters here?”

  The mayor reclined slightly in his chair, interlaced his fingers behind his head and said, “For an interview.”

  “I surmised that. About what, specifically?”

  “About the plan the town is considering. In case you haven’t noticed we’ve got a bit of a crisis on our hands here Brock. It’s times like these that the media can be your best friend. We need to encourage tourism as much as we can in spite of all that is happening. The Salmon Run is the busiest time of year for us. Using the press to reassure folks that things are under control is good for business…”

  “What is the town’s plan?” Brock asked.

  “Brock, need I remind you that you are not the Chief of Police?”

  “Well, at this point, I believe that I am still in charge as it’s a wildlife matter. I would think that any decision you were considering should at least involve me.” Brock replied.

  The mayor exhaled. He moved his hands from behind his head and placed them on the desk in front of him.

  He paused for a moment. “Brock, I’m going to permit the hunt…”

  “What?!” Brock exclaimed. “Mayor, please, you can’t…”

  The mayor raised his right hand and said, “You didn’t let me finish.”

  Brock folded his arms across his chest. He seemed really pissed. Honey wasn’t sure how much control he had over that whole ‘turning into a bear thing’ but she hoped it was enough to get through this meeting.

  The mayor continued, “I was going to say that if there is a single mention of a bear so much as sneezing near a human, I am going to open the season. This latest attack, it is the final straw. I will allow the hunt and with no limits.”

  “What? No limits? Mr. Mayor, please. That’s crazy! You know what will happen. Hunters from five states away will be here in no time. You’d wipe out half the population in a matter of weeks, if not days!”

  “You know what Brock? I’ve done all I can do, it’s totally out of hand and you can’t seem to do anything to stop it. With any luck, the hunters would take out the most aggressive bears early on and at that point, we could rescind the hunt. But it’s not something I can chance any longer. There is just too much at stake. I won’t stand for it and my decision on this matter is final.”

  Brock rubbed his eyes vigorously as if searching for some way to talk the mayor out of it. He couldn’t come up with a damn thing.

  “Brock, you grew up here, as did I, but times are different now. We simply cannot survive without tourism… you know that.”

  “I know…” Brock grumbled.

  “Like I said, I haven’t done anything yet. I don’t want to open the hunt. With any luck, the situation will resolve itself and I won’t have to do it. In the meantime, do what you can to fix the problem or I will. And, lastly, I’m not going to limit it to bears… As far as I am concerned, everything in the back country is fair game – wolves, mountain lions and anything else with fur.”

  Brock brought his palms up to his face and covered it, only to drop them to his sides a split second later. He then stared upwards as if summoning some kind ethereal strength but didn’t speak.

  “Brock, are we clear?” the mayor asked.

  “Yes…” Brock said halfheartedly.

  “Good. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to go to the reservation. Powekah’s curse on the Salmon Run is causing all kinds of problems.”

  “Like what?”

  “I can’t get into all of the details right now, Brock. Suffice it say, the Chief is furious with him and me… With the MacDonald land cursed, it can’t be returned to the tribe if Mrs. MacDonald should pass. The word is that her health is very frail.”

  “I still don’t understand why Powekah would have done that…”

  “I know. I don’t either. That’s what I hope to find out. ”

  The Mayor then stood and said, “Honey, it was a pleasure to meet you. Now, if you both will excuse me, I need to get going.”

  “Nice to meet you too si… I mean… Mr. Mayor.” Honey replied as she stood and shook the mayor’s hand.

  A few minutes later, Brock and Honey had exited Town Hall and were headed back to his truck.

  As they walked, Honey said, “Brock… All of the other shifters…”

  “Yes, they are all in danger now. Not just the bears.”

  They got closer to the vehicle and Brock said, “Wait here by the truck for a second. I have to make a few quick phone calls.”

  “Okay.” Honey replied.

  As Honey waited, she looked up at the tops of the nearby foothills.

  The sun was beginning to set – Honey’s favorite time of day. The valley floor glowed a near fiery pink just as the rays licked the top of the ridgeline. While Brock talked on the phone, Honey wondered if the shifters of Troubled Fork were nearing the end of their days as well.

  Brock paced back and forth for about twenty minutes until finally hanging up and heading back in Honey’s direction.

  “Honey… I don’t have time to take you home. I need you to come with me.”

  “Where?”

  “Everything will make sense when we get there. Do you trust me?”

  “Yes. Of course I trust you.”

  “Then get in, we don’t have any time to waste.”

  ***

  As they drove out of town, Honey turned to Brock and said, “Brock…That stuff about the curse… the MacDonald’s land… what is that all about?”

  “Hmmm… Well, it’s kind of a long story but I’ll try to keep it simple…”

  “Okay.”

  “Gladys, the old lady who lives at the ranch, is the last living descendent of the original settling clan in the valley, the MacDonalds. Generations ago, the MacDonald’s eldest son, Zachary, was said to have single handedly been responsible for wiping out a deadly strain of influenza that had nearly killed the entire Pompowee Tribe. Out of gratitude, the tribe’s leader, Chief Bloodclaw, decreed that the family be given title to more than 30,000 square miles of pristine reservation country. It was agreed that the land would remain with the family until the last in the line of the MacDonald family died.”

  Honey nodded.

  “The tract included vast amounts of farmland as well as timber and mountain territory. Over the years, the MacDonald’s were offered fortunes time and again but their bond to Pompowee Tribe and the land itself was so strong that they’d never even considered selling. They wanted it to return to the tribe as it was intended.”

  Confused,
Honey asked, “Okay, so if the land is going back to the tribe, why would the shaman curse it? I don’t get it. It seems like it would be an incredible thing for them to have it back.”

  “You’re right. I wish I knew. With that curse in place, the land cannot rightfully be reclaimed by them. Chief Heewash knows it and I can guarantee you Shaman Powekah does as well.”