Wren and the Werebear (A Shape Shifter Romance Novel)

by Aubrey Rose

  "You won't tell me? Then it's over. That's what you're saying?"

  And now her heart was telling her just one thing.

  "If you need me to give up my job... then yes. It's over."

  She felt far away from herself. Like it wasn't her own voice speaking.

  "Are you serious?" Olivier's voice was louder now. She wanted to tell him not to yell, that his colleagues would hear.

  Instead, she didn't answer. There was nothing more to say, not really.

  "You—you selfish bitch!" Olivier was louder now, screaming into the phone. "I can't even believe you're doing this to me. The year before the re-election? You think you'll keep your job to spite me? Wren, when you get home—"

  Olivier was still talking when Wren hung up. The phone rocked slightly in its cradle, the cord twisting in on itself, retangling. Her heart was numb, and her chest felt as it did whenever she was sick with the flu. Hollow. Emptied out.

  A cough from behind the gas station brought her back to her senses. Who was it? The shifter?

  Slowly she stepped around the side of the building, peering around to the coastal side. Dawn was coming quickly, and the blue light of the sky illuminated a form sitting on the back curb.

  It was Shawn. He looked up at her and jerked the joint out of his mouth, trying—and failing—to hide it between his knees.

  "Hi," he said, smoke billowing from his mouth as he spoke. "Uh, can I get you a coffee?"

  "In a bit," Wren said, a strange kind of relief flooding her system. She came and sat down on the curb next to him, looking out through the pines at the coast. Beyond the tops of the pines she could see the waves swelling, blue-green and dark. "It's beautiful here."

  "Sure is," Shawn said, looking out. She could tell he wasn't sure if she would rat on him or not. He didn't have to worry. The last thing she cared about right now was getting a teenage pothead in trouble.

  "I just broke up with my boyfriend."

  She said the words out loud and then it was true. There was no going back, and she wouldn't have wanted to, anyway. The numbness in her body and mind began to crackle at the edges. She had broken up with Olivier. Now she was not Olivier's girlfriend. This...this was a fact.

  "Oh. Jeez. That's what that was. Sorry about that."

  She nodded in thanks, looking out at the ocean. The waves rose and fell, and the crashing of water against cliffs soothed her senses. The sun was rising behind them, behind the mountains, and the sky was quickly becoming brighter. It was already too bright for her.

  "Do you want..."

  She looked over to see Shawn holding the sweet-smelling joint out toward her in offering.

  A smile came over her face. She leaned over and took the thin cigarette from his fingers, held it to her lips. The smoke burned her throat at first, but just for a moment. She held the breath and exhaled, a white cloud wisping from her lips and joining the other clouds in the air.

  "Thanks," she said.

  “I have to smoke out back here,” Shawn said.

  “To hide from your dad?”

  “He doesn’t care so long as I get good grades. And I get straight As.”

  “Oh. Then why?”

  “So Eliza doesn’t see.” Shawn looked out over the ocean. “She’s too young. I don’t want her to try until she’s old.”

  “You’re a good brother,” Wren said.

  The colors of the ocean and pines brightened as the sun's rays pierced the ridgeline and came streaming through the tops of the trees behind them. The water, which in the darkness had looked soft and swelling, shimmered with turbulence. The sharp edges of waves reflected silver light everywhere.

  Wren felt an immense swelling in her heart, the relief of a great weight suddenly lifted from her. Everything happened the way it ought to, and she would catch the shifter soon. Then she was free to do anything she wanted to do. The future spread in front of her in all directions, the possibilities as numerous as the needles on the pine branches swaying in the morning wind.

  They sat there for a while, the teenager and the assassin, watching the sun come up.

  Chapter Fourteen

  A commotion came from across the street. Wren followed the noise back to the hotel, and Shawn followed her, wanting to know what the excitement was all about. In the parking lot, Wren noticed a station wagon with the windshield smashed in on one side. A car crash?

  Back at the hotel, Matt was trying to calm down the tourists. It was the couple and their daughter, and the daughter seemed on the verge of hysteria.

  "What's going on?" Wren said.

  "Oh, I'm so glad you're here!" The teenage girl moved past Wren and threw herself against Shawn's chest. Shawn looked up, uncertain how to deal with the apparently terrified girl in his arms. The father rolled his eyes.

  "It was just a bear, sweetie."

  "Just a bear?" The mother wiped her brow with a shaky hand. "It was huge! And it attacked us!"

  "I've already called the ranger," Matt said, peering over at the teenage girl now cuddled up against his son. "Who's that girl? Is that your daughter?"

  "Is that your son?" the father asked, just as critically.

  "What did the bear look like?" Wren asked. The events of the morning were already fading in her mind. Breaking up with Olivier was not nearly as important as finding the shifter she was here to find.

  "Oh, it was enormous!" the woman cried out, evidently happy that someone was taking their plight seriously. "Huge and black, and with such claws!" "How did you get away from the bear?" she asked.

  "We were in the car. It came out in the road right in front of us. And it slashed at the sides of the car, and we backed up, but it came forward anyway and tried to jump on top—"

  "And it smashed the windshield!" the teenage girl interjected. Shawn gave her a tentatively consoling squeeze and she buried her face back into his chest.

  "Let's wait until the ranger gets here," Matt said. "None of you were hurt?"

  Wren was already moving to the exit. In the parking lot, she examined the car. Sure enough, on the top of the hood the metal was gouged deeply. Another few clumps of black fur were caught in the jagged edges of metal. Wren picked out the fur and placed it in a specimen baggie.

  On the other side of the car, the door was ripped down through the handle. It was as though someone had tried to key the side of the car with a chainsaw instead of a key. Wren quickly took out her cell phone and snapped pictures of everything.

  The family came out of the hotel just as Wren was putting away the cell phone.

  "See what it did?" the woman cried. "My god, we could have all been killed!"

  "Where was this?" Wren asked.

  "Just down the road here," the woman said. "A quarter mile, maybe. Thank God we all survived! Do you remember what I read in my horoscope yesterday, dear? You will face down a terrible obstacle, but all will end well. And you say that astrology is bunk!"

  "Astrology is bunk," the husband muttered.

  Wren walked away from the group toward the trailhead. The second part of the loop led toward that part of the road, and she had a hunch that the black bear was the same one she'd chased off of the side trail yesterday.

  Once out of sight, she drew her gun. She tried to stay calm, but the adrenaline pumping through her system made it hard. Step by step, she made her way up the trail. She didn't know if it was the adrenaline or the pot, but every small rustle in the forest sent her into a spin of worry. After the tenth time she pulled her gun up on a bird in the branches, she decided that there was a difference between being vigilant and being paranoid.

  All of the hiking she'd done was catching up to her. Her knees ached with each step she took up the trail. She was acutely aware of her body, of every movement she made. Wrapped tightly around the handle of the gun, her fingers began to sweat. She wiped them on her shirt and continued on.

  At the side trail, she headed off into the forest. It wasn't long before she ran into fresh tracks. They led up, away from the coast. Awa
y from the road.

  Following the bear tracks, Wren found herself moving like a predator. Crouched, eyes sweeping the forest. Each step over the forest floor was as soundless as she could make it. Silent, she thought. Silent. Creep up on the beast.

  Strangely enough, the tracks swung back toward the main trail, and before long Wren had crossed the loop, following the broken brush and deep bear tracks. She found herself crossing and recrossing the trail at higher elevations. She furrowed her brow. The bear's den was lower than this. Was it running, trying to escape? Or was there another den she didn't know about?

  At the top of the ridgeline, the mid-morning sun shone down brightly. It had taken her an hour, maybe, to climb the loop as she tracked the bear, and the air was growing hot around her. She saw the tracks leading down the other side of the mountain. Time for a break.

  She stopped and sat down on a boulder, wishing that she'd remembered to bring water. As the tension wore off, seeping out of her system, she breathed more easily. Relax. Be calm. If you want to do good work, you have to be calm.

  Work. She thought of this morning, of Olivier. It had surprised her that she did not feel a thing after breaking up with him. Now, though, the numbness of the shock was beginning to wear off.

  Had she made the wrong decision? A terror seized her. Maybe she had been too rash. She had quit fieldwork for a reason, hadn't she? How difficult would it be to quit completely? Was she being selfish? After all, she'd left so abruptly to come to California...

  The sound of something coming up the trail kept her from her thoughts.

  "Hello?" she said, standing up from the boulder.

  "Don't shoot." Dawson emerged from behind the curve of the trail, his hands raised over his head in mock surrender.

  Wren exhaled.

  "What are you doing here?" she asked.

  "What am I doing here? You have some damned nerve. Did you know there's a bear running around out here?"

  "Did you?" Wren asked.

  "I was just down at the hotel. Shawn said you went running off into the woods as soon as you heard about the bear."

  "So what? You're here to protect me from bears?"

  "I don't know what kind of gun you have, but it's hard to kill a bear with a gun."

  “Not this one.” She hefted the gun sideways in her hand and held it out to show him.

  "Wow. Okay. You know, if a bear comes at you, you're only going to get one shot. Better hope you don't miss."

  Wren's brow furrowed. She thought about Tommy, the bear coming at him. The swipe of the paw—

  "I'm fine." She wasn't fine. There was Tommy, and there was the bear, and she wouldn't be fine until she killed it. The last swipe, the killing blow—

  "Hey, this isn't Washington D.C. anymore. This is my part of the forest, and I don't want people wandering around with guns drawn. You could accidentally hurt someone. Or yourself."

  "I told you, I'm fine. I don't need a protector." Wren's fists clenched at her sides. She needed to be left alone to hunt this damned beast. She needed to put it down.

  "Why don't you come down to the cliffs? They're having a tai chi class out on the lookout point."

  "Stop it!" Wren yelled. Her whole body was shaking. When had that started? "Stop being so damned... nice!"

  She sank back down onto the boulder and gripped her knees with both hands. Heat burned her cheeks, and the sun burned the back of her neck. The rock under her legs was hard, and she clung to that sensation. The hard edges of the boulder cut into her thighs through her jeans. Fighting back tears, she bit her lip and looked up at Dawson.

  "Please," she said. "I need to be alone." That, at least, was true. She needed some time to catch the shifter, and she couldn't very well do it with Dawson around.

  "Is this about your breakup?"

  Wren looked up sharply. Dawson came and sat on another rock across the trail from her. The short distance between them seemed to sizzle in the hot sun. His golden hair shone, each strand glittering with light.

  "How do you know?" she said.

  Dawson shrugged.

  "Small town. I suppose it's too early to ask you out to dinner?"

  Nothing could stop the glare that came from her eyes. Not even the idea that maybe, just maybe, she might say yes to such an invitation. It wasn't anything to think about right now.

  Dawson gave her a half-smile.

  "Okay, that's what I thought. You just let me know if you change your mind. But I don't want you up here when there's bears around."

  "I'm fine."

  "And you'll be finer down off of the ridgeline where there aren't any wild creatures that could kill you with a single blow."

  A single blow. Tommy. Wren swallowed hard.

  "But I—"

  "No." Dawson's voice was low but firm. "I can't let anyone out here on the trail when there's a bear around. I don't know why you're running off into the woods now. If it's because of your breakup—"

  "It's not."

  Dawson looked into her eyes, and Wren had to turn away. Such kindness, such concern. She didn't want to anger him, but the bear was out there. She knew it. The tracks were fresh. She might not get another chance to track it down before it killed.

  "I promise, it's not the breakup. He was... I knew it was coming."

  That was true. Now that it was over, Wren realized that she couldn't have stayed with him. Oh, for a while, maybe, but not forever. Not for good.

  "Good. Then come down with me."

  "Dawson—"

  "I'm not taking no for an answer."

  Wren raised one eyebrow.

  "Hey, you don't have to come to dinner with me. But you do have to get out of these woods."

  "Fine," she said, standing up. She glanced back at where the bear tracks led outward from the trail and down the hillside. She would have to sneak out later, when nobody was watching. Although, from her experience in this small town, it seemed like everybody was always watching.

  ***

  Back at the hotel, Wren called Marty on her cell.

  "Yo Isabellla. Izzybaloo. What's cracking?"

  "It's not 1990 anymore, Marty. And there's a bear around. Not sure if it's our shifter."

  "I heard. We haven't seen any movement on the major highways."

  "When was it supposed to attack? You said the kills were on a schedule. Wasn't it due today?"

  "Yesterday."

  "This could have been the attack, then!"

  "Or it could have been an actual bear. Wren, I know you want to catch this guy. But we have to be patient. Don't go stressing yourself out."

  "Yeah, I know." Wren kicked off her shoes and lay back on the hotel bed, tucking the cell between her shoulder and ear. Above her, the exposed wood beams were strung with old cobwebs. "Any other news?"

  "I heard about you breaking up with your boyfriend."

  Wren dropped the cell phone, startled, then picked it back up.

  "The hell, Marty? How do you know about that?"

  "What? I'm in information retrieval. That's what I do."

  Wren frowned at the ceiling, trying to figure out who had given Marty the tip. He'd said they already had agents in the field. A flickering thought ran up against the facts he'd given her, but just a thought.

  "Tell me who the agent here is."

  "No can do, electric boogaloo."

  "Is it the ranger?" It would make sense, wouldn't it, to have agents in the forest service?

  "Wren, you know that info is top secret."

  "But me breaking up with my boyfriend isn't?"

  "You shouldn't talk on public landlines, Wren." Marty's voice was slightly admonishing. Wren sighed and rolled over onto her stomach. Her fingers picked absently at the pillowcase.

  "Okay. Okay. I'll stop. It's not like I have anyone to call anymore."

  "You can call me anytime."

  "Thanks, Marty. Real consolation prize, there."

  "Ouch. That hurts, Wren."

  "I'm sure."

  "It hurts
so much, I don't know if I can even bear to tell you about the first sample you sent over."

  "Yeah?" Wren's ears perked up.

  "It's not a match with the hairs we have on file. It's close, but not an exact match."

  "But it's close?"

  "They told me that there were certain DNA sequences that didn't match up. It's not the same bear."

  "Could it be a shifter? Even if it's not the same one?"

  "There's no way to tell that if it's completely shifted into bear form. You know that."

  "But it could be?"

  "Stop trying to make this work, Wren."

  Wren sighed, closing her eyes. Marty was right. She was grabbing at air.

  "What about the second sample?" she asked.

  "Results haven't come back on that one. They just got it this morning."

  "I have another sample, too. From the bear attack this morning. I'll send it over."

  "I don't want you to get your hopes up, Wren. It could be just a normal bear."

  Wren turned over on her back and let her head sink back into the pillow.

  "We might send you back tomorrow if you can't get any sign of this guy."

  "No!" Wren's eyes flew back open. "No, Marty, look. I'm close. I know I am."

  "Honestly, Wren, this thing is a shot in the dark. The shifter probably got spooked after Chief went after it."

  "But today, I was tracking—"

  "You might be tracking a normal California black bear," Marty said. His voice was gentle, but in it Wren could hear a hint of reproach. She swallowed the lump in her throat.

  "I know," she whispered into the phone. "I just... I don't want to go home yet."

  There was a pause before Marty spoke.

  "I understand," he said. "Look, I'll call you back as soon as we get results from this second sample. You're doing a good job."

  "Thanks, Marty." Wren let the phone drop from her ear.

  She couldn't go home. Not without killing the bear that had gotten Tommy. If she had to stay here for another week, another month, hell, another year, she would do it. He would have done the same for her.

  Chapter Fifteen