Theirs to Bear: Icy Cap Den #3 (Alaskan Den Men)

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Theirs to Bear: Icy Cap Den #3 (Alaskan Den Men) Page 2

by Jennifer Hilt


  Tristan stared at me. That lower lip of his was a beauty. I could almost reach over and bite it.

  His eyes widened. The flecks of green in his dark-brown irises always made my heart beat a little faster. What would he do if I leaned in just so—

  “How are you going to accomplish that?” He cleared his throat and stepped back. Turning away from me, he adjusted the front of his jeans.

  Now I got it. He wants me, but he doesn’t like me. That was OK. Given how I’d treated him in the past, I didn’t blame him. There was a time when he wanted me badly. Maybe I could remind him of that.

  Since Ted’s death, it’d been a long dry spell. I didn’t want to fuck any male, human or shifter. But Tristan was hardly just anyone. He was reliable. And hot. Just the thought of Tristan’s cock made my throat dry. Since I’d been free of Ted, I’d lost count of how many nights I’d thought about Tristan as my “what if?”. From his frown, I gathered that fantasy wasn’t mutual. Still, if he had an itch, I’d be happy to scratch it.

  The back door banged.

  “Careful! Wet paint!” I said. My four-year-old son, Leo, sprinted into the house, giggling. He ducked behind a stack of unopened crates and placed one pudgy finger to his lips to warn me of his secrecy. Apparently, a serious game of Hide and Seek was underway.

  I winked at him and returned to painting. No sense in stopping before I finished this wall.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tristan resume his trim work without more than a mumbled “hi” to Leo.

  “Fee-fi-fo-fum.” Gary stomped in through the back door. The ghoul’s impression of a giant was more Frankenstein than anything else. He checked all sorts of ridiculous hiding places for Leo, like my purse and the coffeepot.

  “Lots of wet paint here.” I waved my roller back toward the door he had entered.

  “Careful, she’s not too discriminating about it getting on the walls,” Tristan growled.

  “I’m going outside to search for my victim.” Gary’s stage whisper reverberated off my narrow walls. He’d been using the handmade soap I’d given him; his telltale ghoul odor had decreased, and my soap was behind the transformation. Quite frankly, that was the best news I’d had in a long time. As with all ghouls, his odor created social tension amid the sensitive noses of other paranorms.

  Back in Ohio, I’d experimented with several new soap recipes. Apparently I’d created a winner. Now I was eager to get my soap-making supplies going. In addition to salon services, I planned to sell homemade soaps to humans and paranorms alike. I was doing good with something I’d started as a lark back in Ohio when we were trying to make ends meet. That was when Ted drank any money I didn’t hide.

  I loved soap-making. It was part chemistry and part art, and it all smelled great. I’d branched into using natural herbs, and from the looks of Icy Cap’s early spring, I could soon get started gathering some. I’d sow my favorite plants in raised beds right in the yard this summer.

  I ceased mentally planning my not-yet-created herb garden to consider Gary and Tristan ignoring each other. Interesting. I’d make sure to weasel the history of that out of Gary. I never would’ve guessed a ghoul could be so sensitive, though that was probably what made him a great babysitter.

  Gary was starting down the back steps when my son popped up from his hiding place.

  “Here I am!” Leo called before scrambling over the top of the crates. He dropped to the floor, summersaulting twice, and his giggles became grunts. Just like that, my four-year-old son was replaced by an ice bear cub. Leo raced out the door on four feet and, from the sounds of it, succeeded in tackling the ghoul in the backyard.

  I climbed down from the ladder and collected the tattered remains of Leo’s clothing. By now, I was pretty much numb to this situation. I threw the latest scraps on my rag heap, which was growing daily.

  This was the real reason we were in Icy Cap.

  My preschool son had started shifting. Usually the ice bear spirit asserted itself in high school. At least, that was what Ted had told me. We’d planned to be moved away from Ohio by then. But life is full of surprises, and now Leo needed to be among his own kind. And as his mother, I needed to be with him too.

  I waited for Tristan to say something. Anything. Did I have to ask him? Or would he offer to mentor Leo on how to survive as an ice bear shifter?

  It was a question so important, I couldn’t bring myself to ask. I couldn’t bear the thought of him rejecting Leo. Tristan could be disgusted with me, but my son was a different story.

  I pulled a bottle of wine from the fridge and two paper cups from an open box. It was all I had unpacked in the kitchen. Heavens knows where the wine glasses were. I poured myself some wine, but Tristan shook his head to my offer. He still hadn’t said a word.

  “So?” I asked before draining wine out of my paper cup. Gulping is not sexy, but this was beyond normal circumstances. I needed liquid courage. I refilled my cup, waiting for Tristan to say something. Anything.

  He resumed painting, presenting his back to me. “You shouldn’t let him shift in the house.”

  3

  Tristan

  “The ghoul is your babysitter?” I asked.

  “I don’t see why not. Leo is crazy about him. Finding a babysitter for a shifter isn’t easy.” Liv frowned at her paint-speckled arm.

  “Gary isn’t a shifter.”

  “He’s a paranorm.” Liv continued painting. “My son needs to know others like himself. That’s why we’re here. And we’re not leaving. So whatever problem you have with me, let’s clear the air right now.”

  “I need a break.”

  “Running away? Look, Tristan, I get that I’m your least favorite person. Ted is dead by his own negligence. I’m sorry. But Leo needs others like himself. I don’t want him growing up feeling like he’s weird or that he doesn’t have a place to belong.”

  “You’re not my least favorite person.” I stepped outside to get some fresh air. Those paint fumes were getting to me. That was it. It had nothing to do with being in the same house as Liv. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath. And another.

  I headed down the back steps toward the mostly mud field behind her house. My mind raced. For fuck’s sake, her kid’s a shifter.

  This complicated everything. No wonder Liv came to Icy Cap. She couldn’t raise an ice bear shifter cub in Ohio.

  The boy was three, maybe four—too young to be separated from his mother. If someone were to even suggest it, Liv’s impression of a mother bear would be formidable.

  Liv needed a protector, and so did her son.

  It was too hot too soon. I wasn’t used to the sun and warmth being together already. Sweat rolled down my back, making my T-shirt stick to my skin. I headed for a patch of shade over by spindly birch trees. Stripping off my shirt, I balled it up in my fist.

  My ice bear spirit was rising. The heat combined with the stress of being around Liv made me need to shift. My hands went to my jeans button.

  “Hey!” It was Gary. “Do you mind? There’s a minor here.”

  Over to my left, Gary approached the treed area where I’d paused. His progress was limited by what appeared to be a dingy sack shackled to his leg. The sack wiggled and grunted ever louder as Gary, carrying a shovel, approached a mangy snow pile.

  Leo had attached himself to Gary’s leg. Gary ignored the cub gnawing away on him. Once I’d seen a poodle chew off the collar of the lab sitting next to him. The lab barely flicked an ear at the process. Gary wore that same longsuffering expression.

  About six feet tall and half again as wide, the snow pile they approached was no longer a pristine white. It was muddy, with bits of rock, twigs, and pine needles mixed in. Still in cub form, Leo detached himself from Gary’s ankle and scrambled up one side of the snow hill. He climbed up and rolled back down multiple times. His joy in his ice bear spirit made me eager to shift into mine.

  Unlike Leo, I could head out of town. I’d be swimming in the Arctic sea in under half an hour i
f I started now. Although Gary wasn’t the ideal minder, Leo on his own would be in greater danger. With spring, male bears would pass through the area, and a lone cub would be good eating to a hungry bear.

  “I didn’t see you.” I approached them, no longer intent on removing my jeans. Leo intrigued me. I hadn’t seen such a young ice bear shifter before.

  “What is it with you shifters? Always running around half dressed at best. It’s like some wilderness reality show,” Gary said.

  “Speak for yourself.” The ghoul’s khaki pants were four inches too short. He looked as though he’d just escaped a flood. “Why are you limping?”

  He ignored my question. Instead, he shoveled more snow onto the hill for Leo. With every slide, the melting hill spread. “Since when do you care?”

  Gary and I had never been great friends, but since I’d arrived here last fall we’d been civil. That’s not to be taken for granted among paranorms of different species.

  “What’s your problem?” I asked.

  Gary glanced at me. He stopped shoveling long enough to lean on his shovel and stretch a long arm downward to his push his sock down. Blood trickled along his ankle, revealing tooth marks. “Leo’s teething.”

  “He shouldn’t do that.”

  “I’m a ghoul. It’s not so bad.”

  I gestured to Gary’s leg. “It’s not you I’m worried about. He starts chewing on his mother, that’s a problem. How’d you wind up babysitting, anyway? You’re a taxidermist.”

  “I’m all caught up on my work until the next shipment arrives. Liv promised to supply me with her soap if I help her out.”

  I sniffed. I smelled grimy cub, dirty snow, and wet ground. Not a trace of Gary’s telltale week-old-trash smell.

  More complications were exactly what I did not need. But then a thought occurred to me. Something that could make all this go away. If Liv could support herself with this soap venture, she could do that away from Icy Cap. It didn’t fix the Leo problem, but getting Liv away would be one major danger removed.

  “That’s all her soap?” I asked, unable to keep the hope out of my voice.

  “Not entirely. I received a hefty infusion of vampire blood after the succubus shot me. Apparently that jump-started puberty.”

  My cousin Dane had mentioned that to me before I’d arrived back in town. Until I saw Gary myself, though, it was hard to believe the transformation. He’d gone from looking like a gawky pre-adolescent boy to a gawky adolescent boy. Strange, because shifters generally age slowly. He wasn’t due to start puberty for another twenty years.

  “This is a result of vamp blood? No wonder it’s so valuable.”

  “Not so ‘wow’ for me. Before I was freak because I was the only ghoul around. Now I’m a freak because vamp blood is changing me.”

  Being a paranorm was freakish. I didn’t want to sound all girly, so I omitted that I felt uncomfortable with myself on a regular basis. I mean, think about it: one minute I’m a man in his twenties. The next I’m an ice bear. I started shifting in my late teens. It wasn’t that long ago. I was still figuring out how to be both man and bear. I had nothing to offer Leo.

  The root of all this was the succubus, still out there. She hated Icy Cap. A human and an ice bear shifter cub here wouldn’t be missed on her. Before returning to Icy Cap the last time, I’d searched all over the Arctic Circle for signs of the succubus. I found no evidence of dark magic bear traps. It was as if she had vanished completely.

  But only a fool would believe that.

  “Do you think she’s dead?” I asked.

  “I don’t think Icy Cap is that lucky,” Gary replied. “Her name is Rika. At least that’s what she was calling herself last time I saw her. Do you know what that means in Ghoul?”

  I had no idea ghouls spoke a different language. I’ve never seen more than one. I saw no reason to share my ignorance now, though. I shook my head.

  “One who destroys.”

  That sounded about right. Rika the succubus was waiting for her time to strike Icy Cap again. This time she would bring all her powers to leveling our community forever.

  “Keep Leo away from the mountains. It’s avalanche season.”

  “I’ve lived here my whole life. I got that,” Gary said dryly.

  I considered him. Ghouls are known for their stamina and speed. But nothing could outrun an avalanche or a succubus. “I can help you out with Leo.”

  Gary squinted at me. I’d surprised him. Hell, I’d surprised myself. But I needed to keep a close eye on him. Maybe Rika could control him, given her past success rate with male paranorms in Icy Cap. Giving Leo to Rika would be an impressive offering.

  “What’s in it for you?” he asked.

  “Leo’s dad was a friend. I owe it to him. Besides, we can’t have him chewing on the population of Icy Cap. I have an idea. Be right back.” I sprinted across the line of trees, out of eyesight. I dropped my jeans, then sprinted back toward them, shifting before I was away from the trees.

  Still in cub form, Leo was sliding down the snow hill again. His surprise at seeing an ice bear made him face-plant. I lowered my self down to the ground, dropping my head between my front paws. There aren’t many ways an ice bear can make himself look smaller, but this is one.

  After first retreating behind Gary, Leo approached me tentatively. He sniffed my nose before rolling over on his back. I stayed still. Soon he was crawling on my back or standing on his back legs trying to bite my ears.

  Gary rebuilt the mostly destroyed snow hill. With these temperatures, there wouldn’t be any snow left before long. What was the cub going to do with a ghoul all day for entertainment?

  Eventually Leo tired of me. He wandered over to Gary, then settled into chewing on his ankle. Gary ignored him, but I growled. Werebear shifters have many types of growls. My warning growl was low and long.

  Leo froze.

  He let go of Gary’s ankle.

  I ceased growling.

  He reattached himself to Gary’s ankle, and I growled.

  He dropped it.

  I stopped.

  And the whole thing happened five more times.

  For fuck’s sake. If this was parenting, I couldn’t wait to shift back to my human form and grab a beer.

  4

  Liv

  I’d been hanging off an Icy Cap cliffside all morning, screaming to the empty beach below. This is what I got for setting out on my own across the Artic tundra. All I wanted was to collect some fresh herbs for myself while Gary watched Leo.

  Tristan had warned me about going off on my own. But had I listened? No.

  Instead, I was going to die. And that wasn’t the worst part. In an attempt to save myself, I’d used every last bit of clothing I had as rope in a failed attempt to haul myself up off this ledge.

  Now I’d pinned all my hopes on my thong. Before today, my slingshot panties were a fashion choice—not survival gear. In the hopes of hanging on, I’d looped it around the sturdiest roots I could find, but I didn’t have the arm strength to haul myself up.

  The damned thong had given me the biggest wedgie of my life before I liberated it for use as a lasso. I was not keen on introspection; I had a difficult time waiting for my nail polish to dry. All this because I’d fallen over the edge trying to get some fresh lavender.

  Blackberry vines had closed around me like a net. They protected me from falling. On the flip side, extracting myself was going to be painful to my skin—and pride.

  It’s too late to learn any lesson from this. Instead my son will live the rest of his life knowing that when someone finally found my frozen body, I was pretty much naked. With my luck, that discovery would be by a cruise ship whose season didn’t start for a few more months. That was one thing to be thankful for.

  I screamed for help until my throat was hoarse. My cries competed with those of the arctic terns and skuas circling above me. They were mighty curious, which was OK for now since they weren’t raptors. When the eagles showed up, I’d
be in serious trouble.

  The ledge above me trembled, loosening more of the bank. I was busy watching the earth crumble to the two-hundred-foot drop below when a shadow fell across me from the cloudless sky.

  “I recognized the screams.” Tristan’s mirrored aviator sunglasses peered down at me over the bank’s edge. “Need some help?”

  “Swear to God, get me out of here and I’ll give you anything you want.”

  “You’ll leave Icy Cap?”

  “Except that.” I shook my head slightly. I was aware of my precarious perch, despite my feelings on the subject. “Leo belongs here. I won’t leave him.”

  “You are so stubborn you’d rather fall to your death?”

  “If you have to ask that question, then you don’t know me,” I said.

  “This is a new use for a thong.” Tristan fingered the nylon material that stretched like a rubber band between me and the branch it had snagged on.

  I closed my eyes. The darkening stubble, his sunburned nose, those glasses. Even when I was facing death, Tristan’s hotness awed me.

  “Are you going to help me or not?” I asked.

  Tristan scanned over the edge again. His lips twitched. “Is that sage nestled against your tits?”

  His eyes looked down into mine with the slightest twinkle. Frustration boiled inside me. He thought this was funny, when the ledge supporting me could give out at any time?

  “Just get me out of here before I make my kid an orphan, bastard.” My words lacked heat. Damn his attractive self.

  “Injuries?” Tristan lay flat atop the bank, dangling his arms toward me over the cliffside .

  “Nothing’s broken,” I said.

  He scooted forward. More bits of sand and rock crumbled from the ledge. My precarious situation didn’t prevent him from ogling my cleavage. Under normal circumstances I’d have appreciated the attention.

  After running his hands lightly over the edge, testing for loose earth, he stood up, brushing soil from his palms. “Did this rescue start out thong-less, or was that a later development?”

 

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