by Zoe Chant
The condor nest was gone, obliterated by a fallen tree and crumbling rocks. And there, clinging desperately to the tree just above the waterline, was Jamie. His mate.
Mark tore at his clothes. He had to save her, and he couldn’t do it as a human. The silver sandal fell to the sodden forest floor with his shirt and pants. He hurled himself down the steep, crumbling ridge towards the raging river. Halfway down he lost his footing and tumbled head over heels—and landed on all four paws.
He looked across the water just as Jamie sank under the surface.
One rush of water, and her desperate grip on the tree was knocked loose. Jamie’s flame-red hair disappeared as the water enveloped her in an instant.
Mark rushed forward, throwing himself into the river. The raging current dragged at him and he let it pull him downstream, closer to her. The water was murky, full of dirt and debris, but he could just see her in the distance. Her strawberry-blonde hair, her pale face a flicker in the gloom.
Mark swam with powerful strokes. He knew he had only moments. The water was flinging Jamie’s body around like a rag doll. If she hit anything—if anything hit her—
He surged forward in one final leap, grasping Jamie’s limp form with one massive paw. Then he pushed up from the riverbed with all his might. His head broke through the water in a huge spray of droplets. In his arm, Jamie stirred, and coughed. Her hands grasped weakly at his fur.
He had to get her back onto dry land. But the bank was too far away for him to swim and keep Jamie's head above the water.
Ahead, a giant boulder jutted out of the water. Mark held Jamie tight and swam towards it, heaving himself onto the rocky island before the current could sweep them both past it. He laid Jamie down carefully on the cold stone.
She was freezing. Her face was so pale that her freckles looked like chips of coal on ice. But she was alive. She drew deep, ragged breaths, then spluttered.
“Mark…” she murmured. Mark moved closer.
Jamie opened her eyes, and screamed.
Mark saw the shock in Jamie’s eyes turn to fear as she stared up at him. She scrambled away from him, chilled limbs wrenched back to life by adrenaline. Her mouth hung open, her eyes wide, and she looked at him like he was the most terrifying thing in the world.
Like he was a monster. A dangerous beast.
Mark knew what he had to do. He couldn’t leave her here, on this rock in the middle of the river. And he couldn’t transform. Shifting took energy, energy he needed to conserve to get her to safety.
It hurt just to think about it. He would have to grab her, terrify her more, and forcibly carry her to shore.
“Oh my God,” Jamie was saying, over and over. “Oh my God. Oh my God.”
He knew she was thinking, I’m going to die.
But he had to get her out of here. Even if it meant adding to her fear.
He moved slowly, hoping that would somehow reassure her that he was safe. That he didn’t mean her any harm. He took one slow step forward, placing his great paw carefully on the slippery boulder.
She didn’t move. Her voice faded away, though her lips kept moving, framing empty words. He took another step, and Jamie flung her arm out between them.
She was almost touching him. Her arm trembled, but her gray eyes were dead still as she stared fixedly at him. Mark met her eyes with his own.
Please, please understand, he begged silently. It’s me. And I would never hurt you.
Mark lowered his head until he felt the soft touch of Jamie’s fingers on his fur. He looked at her, deep brown eyes staring into her blue-gray, fearful gaze.
“M-Mark?”
As soon as the words left her mouth Jamie gasped and clapped her hand to her face. Confusion filled her eyes.
“It can’t be… I’m going mad…”
Mark held still. Then, still holding eye contact, he nodded, once.
Jamie made a noise that was half gasp, half sob. “I—you…”
She reached out again, gently touching the side of his muzzle. She sat up, still touching him, and her hand drifted from his face to his neck. Even sitting up she was tiny beside him, fragile and vulnerable.
Mark could almost hear her mind ticking over. A bear pulled me out of the river. It’s probably going to eat me. But it isn’t eating me. And I think the bear is Mark, but that’s crazy. But it pulled me out of the river and isn’t eating me. I’m touching it and it isn’t eating me.
Bears don’t pull people out of rivers and not eat them. And there shouldn’t be any bears in these mountains anyway.
“Mark.” It wasn’t a question this time. Her voice was firmer—full of wonder and amazement, but sure. “How—what—”
He harrumph-ed and motioned towards the distant bank with his nose.
“Right. Yes. I—wow.” Jamie paused, rubbed her face vigorously, and then looked up at him again. “Oh. Wow. This is definitely happening, isn’t it?”
Mark nodded. Jamie stared up at him, her eyes wide with wonder now instead of fear. She pushed her hair back off her face.
“I guess I’d better … get on your back?”
He nodded again.
“Holy crap. Okay.”
Jamie rolled unsteadily over onto her knees. She held out both hands and grasped the fur on Mark’s shoulder. He held still as she raised herself up and climbed arm over arm onto his back.
Mark felt Jamie shift around on his back, finding a position where she could hold on his her hands and grip with her legs and feet. She would need to hold on with all her might. Mark had to focus on swimming. She would have to keep herself on his back.
He hoped she was strong enough.
“I’m going to twist my hands through your, your fur to sort of … wedge myself on to you,” Jamie said from behind his head. “Is that okay? Okay. I don’t want to fall off.” She paused, and he remembered how helpless she had been, tossed by the river’s currents. “I really don’t want to fall off.”
Mark felt her wind her hands into the hair on his neck. He waited until she said she was ready, and then carefully lowered himself into the river.
He felt Jamie flinch as the cold water washed over them both. Acutely aware of how important it was to get her warm and dry as soon as possible, he made for the far side of the river, the same side her campsite was on. There was no point going for the nearer bank if there was no dry shelter to be found there.
Jamie shivered as he swam. He could feel her teeth chattering. Fear for her gave him extra strength, and he fought the current with powerful strokes. At last his paws felt gravel, then solid stones. He hauled himself and Jamie out of the river, not stopping until they were yards away from the rushing water.
Jamie’s campsite was upstream. He didn’t know how far downstream the current had pulled them. He turned and padded briskly up the riverbank. If he followed the river, he could find the condors’ nesting site—or what had been their nesting site—and he knew the way to Jamie’s tent from there.
Jamie lay slumped on his back as he walked. He could feel her breath on his ear, warm in the cold rain. When they came in sight of the tree that had destroyed the condors’ nest, she suddenly stirred and say up.
“Stop! Look!”
Mark followed her pointing arm across the water. There, clinging to the fallen tree, just above the waterline, were the two condors.
No. Three condors.
Now Mark understood why Jamie had been in the water. She had been trying to save the baby bird.
The water was still rising. Much further, and the chick and its parents would be swept away.
He could feel Jamie’s hands clutching at his shoulders. More than that, he could sense her anguish.
She wouldn’t ask him. She couldn’t.
But he could still do it. For her.
Mark sat down on his hindquarters and shrugged gently. Jamie slid off his back, her hands still holding tightly to him.
“What? Why are—oh.” Her eyes widened. “Mark, you don’t—you don�
�t have to.” She took a deep, shaking breath. “It’s only—it’s only a bird,” she said weakly, as though just saying the words was draining life out of her.
Mark shook his head. As Jamie watched, he strode back to the river.
His bear coat might be thick, but as he entered the river this time, he felt the cold seeping through to his bones. He struck out towards the fallen tree with its lonely passengers. The birds croaked half-heartedly as he approached, too cold and weary themselves to attack.
The chick was shivering between their feet. Water was just slopping over the edge of the pile of leaves it was standing on. The parents tried to push it further up the trunk of the tree to safety, but it was too weak. Every time its parents nudged it on, it fell back down.
Mark reached out with one paw—and stopped.
Paw, not hand.
Claws, not fingers.
This was going to be a problem. Mark’s bear form was built for strength and resilience—not so much picking up delicate baby birds.
Mark maneuvered himself just upstream of the fallen tree, so the current of the river was pushing him into the branches. He concentrated, and felt his bear form fall away as he shifted back into human shape. Instantly, cold hit him like a wall.
The condor chick’s parents were hopping from foot to foot anxiously. They had retreated when Mark swam up to their refuge. Now they were watching him with beady, suspicious eyes. Mark hoped that once he grabbed their chick, they would fly off of their own accord—and ideally not dive-bomb him.
“Here goes nothing,” he grunted, and scooped up the bedraggled nestling.
The chick’s downy feathers were saturated and cold, but under them he could feel its tiny heart beating like a drum. He cradled it to his bare chest, trying to share his own warmth with the baby bird.
Not that he had much warmth to share.
Mark looked up. The condors had been nesting in a crack in the rock. While their old nest had been completely swept away, the fissure crawled further up the cliff, away from the water.
With one mighty heave he pushed upwards, feeling the tree-trunk collapse under him as he used it for leverage. He tipped the tiny scrap of down onto the ledge, and, as the log disappeared beneath him, fell backwards into the water.
He was prepared for this. The cold water stung, but he twisted and struck out once again into the river. The water pulled at his body. His human shape was strong and fit—but without the sheer power of his bear.
The cold bit into him, bone-achingly deep. Mark felt his muscles begin to weaken, and then slow. He forced himself on with sheer force of will, but knew he could only go on for so long. His head dipped under the water, once, twice. Spluttering, he pushed forward in one final, massive effort.
Small hands grabbed his arm, then hooked under his armpits to pull him out of the water. Stones crunched under his knees, and then he was falling again, falling into warmth and safety and Jamie’s arms.
“Why didn’t you change back?” Jamie’s voice was choppy with cold and fear. “You should’ve—oh, hell, you’re frozen.”
She rubbed his arms and chest with brisk strokes. Mark felt warmth begin to seep back into his limbs, even through the pounding rain and lingering chill of the river.
“Come on. A—a bear’s pelt is going to be warmer for you than this. Please. Change back!”
* * *
JAMIE
Jamie woke up—to her immediate regret. Her body felt like the wildebeest stampede from The Lion King had taken a detour over her on the way to stomp Simba. God, this was worse than the hangover she’d had after Kes’s wedding. And she was willing to bet whatever caused it was way less fun than celebrating her best friend’s marriage.
A sudden memory of being tossed around by the river swept over her, so strong she almost choked. The rocks on the riverbed might as well have been hooves, the way they had pummeled her. And the water…
She took a deep breath, just to prove to herself that she could.
The fresh air was as good as a shot of caffeine. Brain still sluggishly reviewing the events of the previous day, Jamie pushed herself into a sitting position. Muscles groaning, she leaned back and rested against what she assumed was her pack.
Images flashed through her mind as she pieced together what had happened the day before. She remembered wading through the rising river to get the nestling to safety, and slipping into the water. She took another deep breath as that particular memory surfaced.
So, she’d slipped, and then—okay, fast-forward the screaming horror of being trapped underwater—and then…
Jamie frowned. Mark had been there? Well, that would explain why she had woken up in her tent, and not on the banks of the river. It probably explained why she’d woken up at all. But how had he…?
Jamie pushed back against her pack for balance as she tried to get to her feet, but instead of sturdy nylon her hands met thick, rough fur. At the same time, she realized that whatever was behind her was warm, and breathing—and huge.
Jamie screamed and leapt away, colliding with the side of the tent with a loud ri-i-i-i-i-ip. She stumbled, landing on her butt half-in, half-out of the tent just as the huge creature woke up. Brown eyes shone in the sun streaming through the hole in the tent.
The bear yawned, revealing long, white fangs.
Three things happened then.
First, the conservationist part of Jamie’s brain thought: Wow! A brown bear! We haven’t had any reports of those in this area!
Second, the part of Jamie’s brain that had been sluggishly connecting the dots of her memories thought: Ohhh, now I remember…
…But not in time to stop the third thing, which was that she started screaming blue murder.
“AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!”
Jamie back-rolled out of the tent and scrambled backwards until she came up short against a tree. The tent collapsed in front of her, then billowed up as the bear rose to its feet.
“MURRRRROOOOOMMMMM?” came a booming grumble from the tent, and then the yellow nylon subsided again.
“Oh, my God,” Jamie murmured. She stood up, keeping the tree at her back.
Brown bears are unable to climb trees when fully grown, due to their weight, Jamie’s helpful interior monologue blithered. She tensed against the rough bark.
She could climb the tree. She might only be wearing a T-shirt and undies, and still be creaking with aches and pains, but adrenaline trumped achy muscles any day.
But even though her heart was thudding in her ears, she held her ground. Those flashes of memory from yesterday were starting to fall into place, and the picture they made was … incredible.
Whatever was inside the tent stopped moving.
“Mark?” Jamie called, tentatively.
The yellow nylon shifted, as though something was trying to find its way out. Something that was definitely smaller than a bear. Jamie held her breath.
“Jamie?”
Mark’s head emerged from the ruined tent. Half-fighting his way out, he stepped forward and stumbled slightly. Jamie rushed forward to steady him and, as he straightened, their eyes met.
All the breath left Jamie’s body in a rush. She remembered everything. Even encouraging him to shift back into a bear to ward off hypothermia.
So, it had been her fault she’d woken up next to a bear, after all.
“I feel like I have some explaining to do,” Mark said hesitantly.
“You’re a bear,” Jamie breathed. “You saved my life! And you can turn into a bear.”
Her brain didn’t feel capable of making longer sentences than that at the moment, so with the basics covered, she flung her arms around his shoulders and pulled him down into a passionate kiss.
As a bear, the only thing Mark had been wearing was the tent, and however the whole bear-human transformation thing worked, it clearly didn’t include magicking up clothes. Jamie’s hands drifted across his shoulders, down the strong lines of his back, to the delicious, muscular curve of his waist and beh
ind. She stood on her tip-toes, pushing her body up against his, and—
“Jamie.” Mark’s voice was muffled as he trailed kisses across her skin. “Jamie, I really do think I should explain before … Oh, Goddammit.”
He placed both hands on her shoulders and, gently, pushed her away. Jamie looked up at him, her lips burning.
“Oh,” she said. “It was happening again, wasn’t it?”
Mark ran his fingers through his hair, leaving strands stuck up in all directions.
“Yep. And, again, not that it wasn’t great, but…”
“…Explanations.” Jamie nodded, started to reach out to touch Mark’s arm—strictly platonically, just to show how much she understood and agreed with what he was saying—then, realizing what she was doing, crossed her arms firmly in front of her chest.
Mark did the same.
Jamie licked her lips. Mark’s biceps looked amazing when he crossed his arms.
“So. As I was saying … I … Uhh…” said Mark.
Jamie shook her head. “What? Sorry, I was, uhh…” She blushed.
Mark groaned. “I can’t believe this. Maybe we should tie ourselves to separate trees after all, if we’re going to focus on having this conversation.”
“Tying me to a tree isn’t going to do anything to stop my imagination,” Jamie said promptly. “And tying you to a tree…”
“…Yes?” Mark prompted her after a moment’s silence.
“…Would also be very distracting,” Jamie finished decisively. “Okay, seriously, this is ridiculous. I am going to turn around, and sit down and look at this tree, and not think about anything else while you explain to me about the bear thing.” I hope, she added to herself.
Jamie got comfortable on the leafy ground. Okay, girl, time to focus, she told herself. For real, this guy is some sort of werewolf-bear … were-bear?... and all you can think about is jumping his bones for the millionth time? What is wrong with you?
“Right,” she said out loud. “Let’s go.”
She heard rustling behind her, and forced herself not to turn around. Eventually, Mark spoke.
“Okay,” he began, his voice muffled.
