by Holley Trent
“They haven’t been able to find you in all these years.”
“How could they have? My mo—aunt—kept us moving so much, and she gave me a different name than the one my mother was going to give me. While they were busy preparing to bury my mother, she grabbed me and ran.”
“What’s your name? The one your mother was going to give you, I mean.”
“Deborah. Deborah Vilner, not Weisz.”
“So what does this all mean?”
She threw her hands up. “Who the hell knows? They—my grandparents—want to see me. I don’t know if I’m ready for that yet. It’s just so heavy. But I’m wondering now if there’s another reason my father didn’t stick around. If he thought my, her…that woman…was my mother and she was so different—”
“He thought she changed.”
“Yeah. When she’d never really been her in the first place.” Maria sat on the sofa beside him and balled her hands into fists. “What am I supposed to do with that sort of information? How could anyone expect me to process it?”
“Well, face it. You’ve set yourself up for being the kind of woman who’d be able to process it better than anyone.”
“You’re saying this is my fault?”
“I’m saying you haven’t built the support network you’ve needed because you’ve been too busy being this martyr and now no one knows how fucked up you are except me.”
He saw her hand racing toward his face a split-second before the strike, but he didn’t bother dodging the slap.
He put his palm against his cheek and rubbed where it burned, keeping his gaze fixed on her dark, angry one.
“I’ve never lied to you,” he said. “I’ve always given you what you needed. I’ve always been here for you to talk to. You’re going through some shit right now, and I agree that it’s heavy shit. But I’m sick and damned tired of being your outlet for it when you could prevent some of the angst by letting me support you from the start. Instead, you wait until all the anger builds and so all you can do is lash out. You don’t have to bottle things up around me. You can tell me things and you know damn well I’m not going to judge you.”
He stood and backed away from her. “I through with trying to get you to open up. I’ve already extended the invitation too many times, so I’m just going to assume you’re not interested in coming to me. That sucks, not just for me because I love you, but this fucking bear I’ve got in me has a say, too. He’s not gonna want anyone else because he’s been attached to you from the time I turned into this thing. But…” Eric shrugged. “Whatever.”
He let himself out the closest door and, shedding his clothes as he went, made a beeline toward the distant woods. He needed to shift—to run and claw things. To roar out his frustration and throw his big body against trees or boulders, anything to make his body hurt instead of his heart.
He’d regret it later when he had to shift back, but the for the moment, he was going to do what had to be done. Unlike Maria, he dealt with his emotions when they presented and didn’t wait for them to fester and erupt.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Maria wasn’t so much refereeing the heated debate between Marty and Keely as watching to make sure they didn’t come to blows in front of the kids.
She’d stopped listening five minutes into their argument, and leaned against the side of the RV watching with only superficial interest. Normally, she might have tried to amp up her empathy and mediate for them, but she wasn’t in the right headspace…or even the right heart-space, for that matter.
She was too distracted. Eric had disappeared into the woods, and although they were in safe territory, she worried. She’d asked Jim to go in after him, but he’d told her—in the politest way possible—to mind her own business and to let Eric do what he had to. If Eric had a run-in with another Bear out there, she was going to kick Jim’s ass up and down the East Coast, and then let Astrid shoot some bullets into what was left of him when Maria was done.
Maria’s phone vibrated in her hand, and she glanced down at the number on the display. She didn’t recognize it or the area code. It didn’t look like a U.S. number.
Maybe our contact in Toronto?
She answered it. “Maria Weisz.”
“Who this?”
Maria furrowed her brow. “I’m sorry?”
“Who this?”
“Maria Weisz with Shrew and Company. Are you returning a call someone’s made?”
“Guess so. You called my mama.”
“I did?”
“You don’t know where you be callin’?”
“Are you…in Jamaica?” Maria had tried to call her grandmother, but there’d been no answer. She’d left a message.
“That’s where I am. What you want with my mama?”
“I…just wanted to say hello. I haven’t seen her in a long time and I wanted to connect.”
“Maria, you say?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know nobody by that name.”
“Maybe she doesn’t talk about me. I haven’t been there since I was a child.”
“Whose child are you?”
“Gerald’s.”
Silence.
“Hello?” Maria said as a verbal nudge.
“You say you’re Gerald’s girl?”
“Yes. Conclusively.” Maria usually tried hard to keep the snap out of her tone, but she wasn’t in a great mental place for people to question the one family connection she was certain of, even if the person it was to was flakier than Eric’s homemade piecrusts.
“Bye.” The woman hung up.
“…the hell?” Maria stared down at her phone screen. She considered dialing that number and asking the woman what she’d wanted, but at that very moment, Marty and Keely stopped arguing and Maria looked up to see why.
Eric lumbered slowly past the house and toward the RV with a spare Bear at his heels. The Bear had been the one assigned to guard Keely during her trip up north. He’d obviously gone for a run, too.
As he approached the vehicle, Eric shifted, growling all the while as his skin and fur shrank and bones reconfigured. He was panting by the time he reached the door. He didn’t look at Maria. He just climbed in and shut the door behind him.
She heard him moving around on the inside, and then nothing. He must have passed out.
His accompanying Bear shifted back a bit more slowly and then looked from Maria to Marty back to Maria again.
Benny was another one of Bryan’s blood cousins. Being a born-Bear, he wouldn’t need to rest.
He tucked his black hair behind his ears and asked, “What’s the plan?”
Maria canted her head toward Marty. “I guess we’ll leave as soon as Marty and Keely decide they’re going to stick together.”
Keely made a lazy swat at Marty. “Ugh. What do you think I’m gonna do, ditch him now? Who’s gonna take care of him?”
“I take it you’re volunteering for the job?”
She sighed. “He’s my mate. Obviously, I’m gonna try to work things out, but that doesn’t mean I’m not pissed, Marty. You should have said something to me. I would have gone along with the ruse until we could have gotten away.”
“I didn’t have time to say anything! Gene picked me up and made me get the kids. Took my phone and everything.”
“I’m gonna kill him when I see him.” She looked to Maria and nodded emphatically. “You know that? I’m gonna kill him. I’m not gonna wait for Bryan to do it. I’m gonna drive a claw right through his eyes and sink my teeth so far into his neck that his head’ll—”
Benny clapped his hand over her mouth and chuckled nervously. “No need to be so instructive in front of the kids, girl.”
“Gon’ kill ’im,” she said behind his hand.
The RV door flew open and Eric, fully dressed and upright—though with heavy bags beneath his eyes—leaned out of it. “Whenever you’re ready, folks, let’s get moving. I left my pregnant sister to run my lodge and her patience doesn’t even begin to
approach mine on my worst days. I’d like to relieve her of the responsibility as quickly as possible.”
Maria couldn’t speak for the others, but she stared, confused. Why is he up?
He drummed on the doorframe and let out a long, ragged breath. “Hey, kids? Want to go thank Mrs. West for her hospitality?”
“Okay,” Gabe said with an eyebrow pushed high. He nodded, took Nina by the hand, and walked her toward the house, turning occasionally to look over his shoulder.
“Do you guys need a shower or meal before we head out?” Eric asked Keely and Benny.
Both shook their heads slowly.
“How ’bout you, Marty? Need anything?”
“I, uh…I think I need a cup—pot of coffee. Yeah. I’m…gonna go get that.”
“Hurry up.”
“Uh-huh.” Marty backed away, too, brow furrowed and lips forming soundless words.
Next, Eric fixed his gaze on Maria.
She didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t supposed to be up, and she didn’t know how to articulate that without sounding like she wished he weren’t.
Didn’t matter, anyway, because he pulled his head in and closed the door without another word.
She growled and walked to the door. Pulling it open, she called inside, “That’s not normal, Falk.”
“What’s not normal?” Jim rounded the front of the RV and leaned against the panel over the front right wheel.
She crooked a thumb in Eric’s general direction. “He’s up, and he’s ready to go.”
“Who’s up?”
“Eric. He just got back like fifteen minutes ago. He shifted before walking into the RV and now he’s up.”
“No shit?”
“No shit.”
“Interesting.” He rubbed the scruff on his chin and narrowed his eyes. “Not all shifter groups have that recovery problem. I know mountain lions don’t.”
That was true. Patrick didn’t, and he’d been made, not born.
“Coyotes do, but there aren’t so many made-Coyotes in my group that I could speak intelligently on what their average recovery times are.”
“His recoveries seem to be getting faster.”
“Far as I know, it’s not supposed to happen that way.”
“So, what does that mean?”
Jim’s lips quirked up in a churlish smile. “Honey, do I look like a Bear?”
“Point taken.”
“Ask his alpha, if Eric even cares. If his alpha doesn’t know, ask some of the old-timers. They’d know if it were normal or not.”
“There’s been a lot of shakeup in his group since Gene took over. It’s probably hard to say what’s normal anymore.”
“Well, I don’t envy Bryan for the chore of shaking all that mess out once the dust settles. Half the Bears in that clan probably don’t know much at all about themselves. Not supposed to be that way.”
Eric and Nina returned with Mrs. West in tow.
She thrust a couple of heavy-looking canvas bags toward Maria. “Make sure those kids are eating well. You all look malnourished.”
Jim snorted. “They’re grown-ups, Ma. I think they know how to feed themselves.”
Maria carefully avoided Mrs. West’s gaze.
___
Getting Marty, Keely, and the kids to Buffalo was a blessedly uneventful endeavor, but Maria was under no pretenses that the leg of the trip that came next would be a restful one.
She didn’t have to be a Bear to sense Eric’s agitation from the front passenger seat of the RV, and she didn’t have to work that hard to feel left out, either. Eric and Benny chatted quietly about Gene and other Bear things while Benny drove, never bothering to toss a question back for her input.
If he wants to cut me out, maybe that’s for the best.
If he did, she’d know exactly what she needed to do when they got home.
Curled up on the sofa, she scrolled through the messages on her phone, lingering over Dana’s number.
Dana hadn’t told the other Shrews what she’d found out about Maria’s birth situation, and Maria didn’t know if she wanted them all to know. In the scheme of things, them knowing that one thing wasn’t going to make or break their relationships, but if they knew that, other things might come out.
They’d see just how unstable she was, and maybe decide that working with her wasn’t wise. She didn’t know what she would do if she didn’t have them. She couldn’t think of any other job she wanted to do other than being a Shrew. Going back to Child Protective Services was out of the question. Even if she went back to school for something else, she’d always be drawn back to investigation work. It suited her, even if some of the cases riled up her inner dragon.
Maybe I should tell Dana that…
It couldn’t hurt. They all had their special interests and triggers. They each had strengths and weaknesses that Dana considered when determining who to assign to a particular case. And if Dana didn’t know what the extent of Maria’s weaknesses were, it was no one’s fault but Maria’s if she fell apart.
Reluctantly, Maria brought up a message screen and quickly tapped out, Meeting when I get back? Need to talk to you about some things.
Oh, God, Dana immediately returned. Don’t tell me you’re quitting.
Maria chuckled. No, not quitting. I just need some accommodations for my caseload. Some jobs wring me out pretty badly.
You’ve never said anything.
Eric says I need to do better.
Eric did, huh?
Maria let her lips sputter with her exhalation and laid the side of her head against the armrest. Tell her? Don’t tell her?
She had to tell someone. She was tired of being the receptacle and having no healthy outlet of her own. Eric was right that she couldn’t keep taking all of her frustrations out on him. She needed to start being honest with people if she expected honesty in return.
She tapped out, Don’t tell Astrid. I’d like to be the one who tells her. Eric and I have been intimate for years—a no-strings kind of thing.
I see. Do you have problem working with him? Because, honestly, I don’t know who else I could pair you with at this point if I have to send you out.
I don’t have a problem working with him. I suspect the issue is the other way around now. He’s…annoyed with me, and not for the reasons you probably assume.
Do I want to know?
Maria cut her gaze toward the front of the vehicle. Eric and Benny were still quietly chatting, eyes on the road, paying her no attention at all.
I don’t know if you want to know, she wrote, but I’m going to tell you anyway when I get home. And Doc.
I’ll probably be in Durham when you get back. Head that way.
Will do.
Great. And I mean that about not having anyone else to partner you with. With Astrid being on light duty and Drea being nowhere near confident enough to take on much more than simple background checks, I don’t have anyone else on the roster whom I think could work with you. Bryan or Patrick might be able to shake someone out of their groups in a pinch, but on a permanent basis? I don’t know about that.
I don’t think Eric wants to do anything with me on a permanent basis.
Well, on a contract basis, then. I seriously doubt he’ll say no if the need is urgent, and I’d prefer to send you out with a shifter as backup than some random Joe Schmo. I don’t think he’ll be so cool to you for long, though.
Why do you say that?
That’s the Shrew trend, right? We hook up with guys we work with, and then we couldn’t get rid of them even if we wanted to.
Not sure I want to. Not sure of anything.
Well, that’s a start, at least. What’s holding you back?
The list of things that aren’t holding me back is far shorter than the list of things that are.
Damn, woman. Well, we can take care of that. See you at the office, tomorrow night.
Maria set her phone down and turned toward the front of the RV. “Are we headed so
uth toward The Triangle or Asheville?”
“Asheville,” Benny said. “Unless the plan has changed?”
“I need to be in Durham tomorrow evening, if that’s not too inconvenient for you two. My car is in the mountains so I’d have to go that way and fetch it, anyway, but I’d like to save myself a little driving.”
Benny considered her in the rearview mirror for a moment, then looked to Eric.
Eric didn’t even turn around. “Fine with me. We need to give this thing back to Felipe Senior, anyway. I can rent a car to get the rest of the way, or even take the train if I’m too tired to drive.”
“How’re you feelin’, anyway?”
“Just a bit bone-weary. Nothing that being back in my own bed won’t fix.”
His own bed.
Maria spun her phone between her fingers and wondered what it must have looked like. She’d never been in it, and he’d never been in hers.
“It’s weird, you know,” Benny said. “I don’t know no made-Bears who can get up like that.”
“Well. You get what you ask for, you know. I wanted some excitement in my life, and I guess I’m getting it in spades.”
Maria could have done with a little less excitement.
She curled up again and flitted through phone menus once more, finally landing on her grandparents’ number. It was around eight. It probably wasn’t too late to call, and she kind of wanted to get it over with while she had some time to parse the exchange.
Maybe she’d go into the meeting the next night feeling squeezed dry, but at least she’d already be on the path to recovery.
She dialed out, brushed her hair back from her phone ear, and pressed the device to it.
Closing her eyes, she counted the rings.
One. Two. Three…
She wondered if they were like her and didn’t answer numbers they didn’t recognize.
I’ll just leave a message.
