I started with the oldest, a slim journal in crabbed writing. It was dated 1919, written by someone named Riemmeck Jones, clan historian.
“Isn't that hard to read?” Don said after awhile. He shifted next to me, clearly bored as he watched me making out the cramped words underneath the dull lamp.
“Well, it's not easy. But it's very interesting. You didn't tell me anything about how this clan came to be.” I looked up in awe. “Is this supposed to be real history or just a legend?”
He shrugged. “You tell me. Nobody around here has seen magic for generations. I know your kind says it doesn't exist outside fairy tales.”
My head was spinning. I read about how the clan had started. Apparently, a group of settlers on their way to Washington and Oregon in the middle nineteenth century had fallen foul of the Kalispel native people while resting for the winter.
Their leader, Robert Stanton, had an illicit affair with a young Indian girl. When she disappeared, the tribe held up Stanton as the obvious culprit.
He denied it, of course, just like any man in the day would. Too bad for him the woman was the daughter of a powerful Kalispel shaman.
It happened late in January. The settlers were awakened in their frigid temporary cabins, their eyes drawn toward the high fires rising beyond the Indian encampment, all the way to the highest mountains.
A ritual of some kind with green flames and monstrous silhouettes was underway. Large shapes like grizzly bears stalked near the fires, pacing and pawing at the ground.
Robert Stanton was the first to change. The people had stepped outside, gathering in a small group on the crisp valley snow. Stanton fell to the ground, his bones and flesh rearranging themselves, brown fur sprouting from every square inch of his skin.
The other settlers began to scream when they saw the bear. But there wasn't much time to be afraid. Before they'd even taken a single step from the creature, they also began to fall, shredding their clothes as their bodies twisted and transformed underneath the winter moon.
The Grizzly Bone Clan was born, and severed from the human world forever.
“God, I wish your people didn't have to live in the shadows. My friend Jenn would love this. She's a real history geek.”
“If you say so,” Don said. “Interesting or not, I don't think history is what Emmerick wants you for.”
I looked away from the old chronicle, mildly irritated. But he was right.
With a heavy sigh, I shoved the old records away, pawing deep into the stacks for the less dusty, more modern folders beginning in the late 1980s.
Half an hour of skimming through the files later, I wanted to face-palm my forehead. It amazed me that the scouting missions had kept the clan safe at all.
The latest entries went back a decade. I stared at them in mild disbelief:
10/11/97: Ben's Sporting Shop is selling a sort of homing device. This “GPS” claims to image roads and track vehicles. When I had the shopkeeper demo it, all I saw was a static dot. There's no way this tracking could work outside the cities anyway. A passing fad.
06/03/03: Heard a science report on TV about National Parks threatened by global warming. The one they all Glacier was on the list. Scientists say the glaciers will be gone by 2030 and the park will flood. These fools must be bored out of their minds to believe such nonsense.
08/12/06: Scared off several trespassers just past the ether. They were holding up their telephones like they were cameras. I think they were deluded.
04/20/09: All the reporters are buzzing about a pig flu epidemic in Mexico. They say it will sweep across the USA and make the Spanish flu outbreak a hundred years ago look like practice. We should consider scouting parties to haul back supplies once Kalispell is uninhabited.
I shook my head. Again and again. I could practically hear the confusion ratting inside me like tiny pebbles.
“What?” Don said for the second time. “I can't tell if you're about to laugh or cry.”
“Maybe both! I have to ask...who's responsible for writing up these little reports?”
“Just three of us.” Don pointed at himself. “Alex and a guy named Barry rotate. It's been that way for almost twenty years. Emmerick used to go, but he's past his prime for that.”
Yes, way past his prime.
I didn't want to think about the little census I'd seen in the older records. It recorded an Emmerick Hoskin's birth in 1910. If it was him, it meant he was over a hundred years old – and he didn't look or act a day over sixty.
I cringed. Don seemed like the smartest man among them here, and certainly the most powerful. If he was so far off the mark on these missions, then the clan had a lot of catching up to do.
“There's a lot you're missing with these technologies. The news reports too.” I shook my head. “But I guess that's why I'm here – to clear things up.”
“That's right. You'll have to go through Emmerick for that.” He yawned, rolling his biceps up over his head. He pushed his hands together and flexed in a mighty stretch.
For a second, I forgot all about the monumental job ahead. I couldn't think about anything but jumping his bones again, something I never imagined I'd feel about any man – especially after such a long, passionate night.
I should be satisfied for a little while. But all I want is more, more, more...
I forced myself to turn back to the records. Don must've caught my gaze.
A second later, his hand was on my shoulder, making slow, shallow strokes along my neck. What started as a shoulder massage moved quickly to my breasts. They pressed tight through the old blouse he'd found for me after destroying my sweater, nipples purring for attention.
“Tonight,” I said, unable to hide my hunger. It hurt like hell to stop him. “We should wait. We'd probably end up ruining these records and covering ourselves in dust.”
Yeah, it sounded wild and sexy in theory. But the reality, combined with the threat of enraging Emmerick even more if he caught us, was something else.
“Fine,” he said, disappointment in his tone. “Just remember, Sam, I will hold you to your word.”
A low, happy growl followed. He leaned into me, pushing his face where his hand had been, and nipped playfully at my neck.
I squealed, slapping pitifully at his chest until he backed off. Don stood up and completed the full body stretch I'd interrupted.
Feels like I'm a student again. Never could concentrate too well in the library when the hot guys out jogging on campus used to lean on the window and stretch...
And the men in my memory didn't hold a candle to him. Don was bigger, more mature, and infinitely more skilled. If I wasn't going to be ruthlessly mauled for upsetting an Elder shifter, I would've given up and followed him back to the cabin that very second.
“They want me to make the rounds,” he said, stepping around the table. “You feel safe enough here on your own? Emmerick won't try anything. He's a rat bastard, but he doesn't step out of line if it upsets the rest of the council.”
I nodded. “Stay safe, Don. I'll see you this evening.”
He blew me a kiss and stepped outside. I had to get his damnably sexy movements and muscles out of my head.
I turned into the records and dove deeper, hungrily devouring as much as I could. After what seemed like hours, I pressed the old pen to paper and began to write.
Later, the door popped open. I half-expected to see Don calling me in for evening, but Emmerick's shadow fell across me. His cloak sprawled out like a bat's wings at rest.
“Let me see your observations, female.”
Shit. My fingers tensed on the notepad and passed it to his waiting hand. I'd only written a single page. Surely, he doesn't expect everything today, when I'm just trying to find my bearings. Does he?
“That's it?” The bitter annoyance in his voice bored into my ear.
“There was a lot to go through. Over a hundred year's worth. The council said I have all winter, and I've already given you some ideas on the obvious.”
“Stop making excuses,” he said. His whispers sounded like something hot and greasy simmering in a shallow pan.
“Excuses? I think you're the one who's falling apart on the job.” I couldn't hide my irritation anymore. “You want this to fail so you can throw me to the wolves.”
Or to the bears, I thought unhappily.
He lowered his tight clenched hands to his sides, giving me his trademark predatory stare. If it weren't for his eyes, he wouldn't have scared me.
But now, I saw the pent up rage of a very old being, a man who remained fully conscious and strong when anyone human would've been weak and half-senile at the hundred year mark.
“I'll tolerate you as long as you do your job. You're working for the clan, and you ought to consider it a privilege.”
“That' doesn't mean it should all be on my shoulders,” I snapped.
The Elder took a step closer to me, until he leaned on the table. I stared into his angry eyes, cold and unwavering.
“You owe me some time to understand your history. If you really want me to help your people, then you'll treat me more like a partner. An assistant, even.”
Damn it, I was trying to be sensible.
“Our history doesn't concern you. The present does.” Emmerick's lips twitched.
“I don't think so. If I had a better understanding about what really happened here, blow by blow, then I could clear up all your misconceptions. And there are a lot of them.”
I stopped, and resumed a second later, rattling off the most ridiculous reports I'd read. “And that only covers the last ten years. Your people didn't even realize the internet existed until 2005! You can't hope to understand my world with these brief, probing glances, and no real interactions.”
For a moment, I feared he was about to shift and lunge, tearing me to pieces. But at last, the Elder sank backward, hung his head, angry and trembling.
“I don't deny that, much as I'd like to.” He paced to the wall and turned around again, refusing to meet my eyes. “So, you must know everything, then. Our whole history? The reason why we can never interact with your kind.”
“That's what I was wondering about. The chronicle didn't make sense. It has to be a legend.”
“It's irrelevant. Who cares if it was an angry shaman who created us with a curse or space aliens? We're not human. We never will be.”
He had a point. I opened my mouth, but stopped, still processing what he'd said.
“It does matter, though. If I could understand where the beast ends and the man begins...I could help you see through your weaknesses. Maybe even ease the relations between our two peoples.”
“That isn't what you're here for,” he muttered. “I don't want an envoy to the world of man or a philosopher. I know damned well what we are, and what we can never be.”
“Which is what?” I whispered, not really expecting a serious answer.
“An abomination.” Emmerick looked up. Some of the fury in his eyes had been dashed with sadness. “A creature that shouldn't exist, and won't exist after another few decades. Not if I have anything to do about it.”
“I don't understand.”
“We just want to live out our lives in peace. The clan's numbers are dwindling. There's nothing anyone can do about it. In another forty years or so, we should be extinct.” His jaw tightened, like he'd said too much about some great secret.
And he certainly has. Jesus...extinct!
My eyes widened. I stared at him, hating myself for the way my heart stirred. Despite how they'd treated me, melancholy pangs throbbed in my chest. I felt bad for all of them – Don, the Elders, and even Emmerick.
I had more questions. But Emmerick turned away from me, moving toward the door, suggesting he was in no mood to elaborate on the insane surprises he'd just leaked.
“Just do your job and go when the winter is over. Never speak of this place again.” With one hand leaning on the frame, he turned to me, the fire flashing once more in his eyes.
“Don't think about continuing your little tryst with Don Flood. He can't be with you. It's cruel and unnatural. You'll only hurt him.”
Denial thundered through me. Still, I wasn't about to argue with the mad rage boiling beneath his surface. I simply nodded.
“Can I take some of these records back to the cabin? It might help if I had more time with them.”
“Yes, but you'll return them immediately tomorrow morning. And you need to focus on the reports that happened in your lifetime.” He said it dismissively.
And why not? Twenty-two years was nothing stacked up against more than a century.
Emmerick stepped out and pulled the door shut. It clamored loudly in its frame.
I gathered up the older documents I wanted to review and went on to the cabin. The sun had set, and it was more than a little scary walking through the leafy strewn paths alone, surrounded by shifters.
Don hadn't returned yet. My stomach growled, but I'd wait for our nightly steak and vegetables. I was too hungry for knowledge just now.
I dove into the history. I learned the clan had dispersed into the mountains, sometimes as far as the Pacific Coast, mining gold for spending cash and partaking in an ill fated silver mining adventure in Idaho over a hundred years ago.
The census reports mystified me. No children were born during some decades. But suddenly, during others, there was an upswing, a baby boom of young shifters that included one, Don Flood, in 1973.
My mouth dropped a little. I knew he was older, but more than forty? Don's physique and smooth skin mirrored a man in his late twenties perfectly, a young man at his powerful zenith.
Just how slowly do they age?
The records gave no indication. Sometimes, I saw birth and death years that spanned more than a hundred years – far too many to be a statistical anomaly.
And then there were others with more normal lifespans, forty to seventy years. I wondered if the early deaths were tragedies or normal attrition.
When I read about the humans brought back to Horseshoe Creek, I began to understand. God, the birth rates linked up perfectly with the wives and husbands traveling members of the clan brought back! The baby booms with humans were the only way the clan could reproduce.
I pounded my fists on the table just as Don stepped through the door. In a flash, he was next to me, grabbing my hands and struggling to understand my rage.
“That lying bastard!” I yelled.
“What is it, Sam? What's happened?” He repeated variations of the same question over and over, but I was too dazed to think until he lost his patience and barked. “Tell me!”
“All your population problems,” I said, shaking a little. “It's because you aren't bringing in new blood. Shifters can't make babies with each other.”
His eyes widened. I saw raw hunger flashing beneath his rage, and it lingered. Even when his brain pulled every piece of the puzzle into place.
“Emmerick knows it takes humans to do it. And he wants you to go extinct.”
VI: Cat and Mouse (Don)
“I'll kill him myself,” I said, gazing into Sam's frightened, wavering eyes. “I swear that I'll do it one day.”
“No! What good will that do?” She said quietly. “They'll rip you to pieces, Don. And no one will ever know...not unless he's exposed, and we have some proof.”
I shook my head, furiously circling the small kitchen. At first, I didn't want to believe her. But the way she flipped through those withered pages, explaining the names and the numbers, giving me history lessons about things I'd never heard of...
It was undeniable. And I wanted to bring Elder Emmerick to his knees. Execute him, if needed, for high crimes against the clan.
“I can't just sit on this. There has to be a way to go after him.” My inner bear was ready to taste blood. “There's no way the other Elders are in on this. Genevieve always brings up the population problem when they meet. She's obsessed with fixing it.”
“And you will go after him,” s
he said gently, rising and stepping toward me. “Just give it some time. We need to get our proof together. And it has to come from you. Who would ever believe a human female?”
I smiled at the nastiness in her voice. She imitated Emmerick's turn of phrase, and did it pretty damned well.
“He wants to break us apart, you know,” she said. “He told me I had to leave once my work is done, and I can never come back to see you.”
Sam wrapped her arms around my back. Only her gentle touch tamed the inferno inside me, the need to shift, fight, kill. Her soft breasts pressed along my chest, conjuring a very different heat.
Oh, Samantha Aarons. I wanted you before, but now...if it means defying Emmerick, I'll drag you to my bed, hold you down, fuck you harder than before, and never, ever let you go.
“You're mine,” I whispered. I had to claw at her shirt, pull her into me, close enough to feel her heartbeat through her sweet breasts. “Mine only. No one can ever make me let you go.”
I kissed her hard. My tongue darted into her mouth, swift and conquering.
Sam moaned into me, offering me her sweetness. I tasted raw desire, spicy and sexual, fuming like airy honey across my tongue. And as always, that richness made me want more, more, more...
Growling, I broke the kiss and lifted her up off the floor. Sam craned her neck, meeting my lips again and again as I slowly carried her to the bedroom.
Once we were inside, I threw her down to the bed, covering her small frame with my body. Beast blood hummed in my veins. I'd smelled her, tasted her, and it had given me a man's need with an animal's desire.
So, human-shifter couplings are the only way to make more of us? Then I want to get you pregnant, Sam. I want to fuck you deeper, furious and raw, and spill my seed inside you.
I didn't speak the sudden compulsion aloud, but I think she knew. At some primal level, she understood me. At least, her body did.
I tugged at my clothing as Sam undressed beneath me. Much to my surprise, her vigor matched mine, the ache of swollen skin straining to be freed from its restrictive clothes.
Love to Bear: A Werebear Shifter Romance Page 7
