Mated to a Bear (Legends of Black Salmon Falls Book 3)

by Lauren Lively

  My father didn't often take off from work for very long. Even when we were at the house in Big Sur, he was still reviewing and preparing cases. The man never stopped working. But my mother never seemed to mind. She was happy and content to be married to one of San Francisco's top prosecutors, and she enjoyed her role as a housewife and mother.

  I had a lot of happy memories of the house in Big Sur and had always enjoyed my time there as a kid. It was a beautiful place, and it made sense that my folks would retire to the house after my father quit practicing law.

  What didn't make sense to me was that I would run there as a first choice when things around me had been thrown into chaos. It wasn't like I had the best relationship with my folks. I certainly never confided in them, nor had I ever sat down and discussed all of my life's woes with them. We didn't have that kind of relationship. Not anymore, anyway.

  At one time, I'd enjoyed talking to my parents. My mom and I had been especially close. I could always talk to them about anything and everything, and I often did. My parents would often give me fantastic advice and a very friendly shoulder to cry on when needed.

  At least, until the Big Disappointment, anyway.

  The Big Disappointment – and I always heard it in my mind with a capital B and D – was me giving up my career in law to pursue my dreams. I blamed it in part on a generational difference between us. My folks grew up in an era where hard work was rewarded, and following your heart was something only degenerates did.

  Ever since the Big Disappointment, our relationship had cooled. But every once in a while, I got a little glimpse of how things used to be, mostly from my mom. I got the feeling that deep down, she was happy for me and didn't carry the deep disapproval that my father did. But I supposed that out of deference to him, she toed the line.

  They never outright shunned me, but they made it clear that they were not happy with my decisions, which always made for fun holiday dinners.

  But at the end of the day, they were my parents for better or for worse, and I had to believe that when the chips were down, they'd be there for me. Perhaps things wouldn't be like they were – maybe they never would be again – but they would never turn me away and would always be willing to talk.

  I pulled into the driveway and parked my car. Sitting behind the wheel, I looked at the house and the soft glow in the windows. It looked so warm and so welcoming. So inviting. Yet, everything in me was resisting getting out of the car and going inside.

  “Get a grip, Paige,” I said to myself. “It's for a couple of days. You can deal with it for a couple of days. You can do that standing on your head. Pull up your big girl panties.”

  I sighed and grasped the door handle, giving myself one more mental kick in the ass. Getting out of the car, I shut it again and took a deep breath. The aroma of the pines blended with the sea air, creating a heady, intoxicating mixture. It was one I never grew tired of. That was part of the reason I settled in Sapphire Bay – it was very similar to Big Sur in terms of climate and that wonderful scent. The best part of course, is that it wasn't Big Sur, and I wasn't living too near to my folks.

  The front door opened, spilling soft, yellow light onto the driveway. Silhouetted in the doorway was my father. He stared out into the darkness that had wrapped itself around me. They didn't get visitors very often, and my father was usually a bit suspicious when somebody rolled into their driveway unannounced. He always had been. I figured it was thanks to his job. As a very successful prosecutor, he'd received plenty of death threats throughout his career. Call it professional paranoia.

  “Paige, is that you?” he called.

  “Yeah, dad,” I said. “It's me.”

  I crossed the driveway and stood at the bottom of the porch steps, looking up at my dad. He was getting older, that was for sure. But he still had plenty of fire left in him. I wouldn't completely count him out of a fight.

  My father looked down at me from his position on the porch. “What's going on, Paige?” he asked. “What brings you all the way out here? No customers? Your club not playing music tonight?”

  I caught the cold, disapproving tone in his words – not that it was all that subtle to begin with. I got the impression from his tone and the look on his face that he'd half expected me to tell him I was going under and I needed some money from him to help bail me out. Money, I knew, that would not be forthcoming since they'd never approved of my decision to open the club in the first place.

  “No, dad,” I replied, trying hard to keep the pride out of my voice. “Business is booming and our audience is growing exponentially.”

  “Huh,” he said. “Well, I suppose that's good news.”

  I nodded and a smile touched my lips. I so badly wanted to throw an “I told you so” in his face. He'd never believed in the Mahogany Tavern. He was never afraid to express his belief that we'd be belly up in a year. He'd never believed in my dream, and he'd never believed in me.

  I kept trying to tell myself that it was a generational thing. That we didn't speak the same language. But that didn't take the sting out of it any less.

  “Yeah, it's going really well,” I said. “I'm really happy about it.”

  My father nodded. “So, what brings you all the way out here?”

  “I was hoping I could crash here for a couple of days,” I said.

  He looked at me, an inscrutable expression on his face. “Something wrong with your place? Did you get evicted or something?”

  I sighed. “No, I didn't get evicted,” I said. “I just needed to get out of Sapphire Bay for a couple of days. Decompress a bit.”

  “You okay? Something going on?”

  There was a hell of a lot going on. But nothing I was able – or willing – to share with my mom and dad. If I couldn't tell Josie, there was no way in hell I was going to tell them.

  “Nothing's really going on,” I replied. “I've just been swamped lately and wanted a couple of days to get away from it all and get my head back on straight again.”

  My father looked at me and scratched at the light stubble on his chin, making a dry, scratchy noise. It was his one concession to retirement. He was meticulous about his appearance and back when he was practicing law, would sometimes shave twice a day to avoid stubble. These days, he might go a full day or two between shaves. A regular wild man, my dad.

  “Get away from it all, huh?” he said, that tone of disapproval and judgment back in his voice.

  “Yeah, dad,” I said. “I've been working seven days a week, thirteen, fourteen hours a day. I just wanted a little time off to catch my breath.”

  To my father, taking time off from work was a decadent luxury. One he'd never been a fan of while he was working. And now, even though he was retired, he still kept very busy. He wasn't one for idle time and didn't do well doing nothing. The idea of taking a break from working was anathema to the man.

  He shrugged. “Yeah sure,” he said. “Guest room's all made up. You can stay.”

  He gave me one more long look before turning and walking back into the house, leaving the door open behind him. Yeah, I was getting all warm and fuzzy inside and felt so welcome.

  “What did you expect, Paige?” I muttered to myself.

  With a sigh, I turned and got my bags out of the car and walked into the house. This was going to be a fun couple of days.

  Chapter Five: Baz

  Unable to bear being caged in my room like a common animal, I walked around the city of Sapphire Bay. The sky was dark, the stars were glimmering, and the thin sickle of the Moon high overhead bathed the world around me in a soft, glowing, silvery light. It was beautiful.

  I'd had no charted course or plan when I'd left my room at the lodging establishment. I had just wanted to get out and walk, figuring that, eventually, I would find a quiet place on their ocean's shore and indulge myself with a swim in the waters.

  But when I looked up, I found that I was nowhere near the shoreline. I stood across the street from Paige's Tavern. The doors were open
, and the music flowed out of it, soft and gentle, like the light from the moon.

  “Your destination seems to be a very odd coincidence,” Anjol said. “Don't you think?”

  I ignored my computer companion and took a seat in front of the shop I was standing at before. From where I sat, I had not just a clear view of the Mahogany Tavern, but could hear the music clearly. Just as every time I'd listened to this human music before, I was enchanted and mesmerized by it. It was unlike anything we had back on Optorio.

  Oh, we had our forms of music, and they could certainly be beautiful. But what I was hearing was breathtaking. Moving. It really reached in and touched something deep within me. Nothing I'd heard back on my home world had ever been able to do that before.

  “I have been doing some research on this species,” Anjol said. “And while they are peculiar, I will grant you that they are fascinating.”

  “Yes, they are,” I murmured, trying to focus on the music.

  “They have a number of interesting sayings, I must tell you,” Anjol rattled on. “Some of which come out of laws they have enacted.”

  “Do you have a point?” I asked. “I am trying to enjoy the music.”

  “Only that, understanding you as I do, I know that you are seated across from that musical establishment with the hope that you will see her,” Anjol said. “Further, what you are doing, the humans would refer to as ‘stalking.’”

  “I am not stalking,” I said. “I am simply listening to the music and enjoying it.”

  “Uh huh.” For a computer system, Anjol had seemingly mastered the art of sarcasm. “Oh, I am sure that's it.”

  “You know, I am strongly considering deactivating you for the duration of my stay here,” I said.

  “You could do that, of course,” Anjol said in a tone that implied he knew I wouldn't. “But if you do, you will be utterly alone here with no source of information.”

  I leaned back on the bench I was seated in and sighed. Anjol was correct. I needed him to process information and feed it to me as I required it. I also needed him to ensure that I had open lines of communication. But that didn't mean I was not still annoyed by him.

  “It would appear that we are stuck with one another,” I said.

  “It would appear so,” Anjol replied. “That being said, I have received a communication from your associate, Tarkonil–”

  “My friend,” I said. “Tarkonil is my friend, not just an associate.”

  “Very well. Your friend, Tarkonil, sent a communication stating that he will be here with everything required to repair your ship by tomorrow,” Anjol said. “He said that he is also bringing news.”

  “News about what?”

  “I am afraid that I do not know,” Anjol said. “He was not comfortable speaking over an open communication line. He said to tell you that he would inform you of his news when he arrived.”

  It had to be about what was going on back home. And if he didn't feel comfortable speaking over an open comm line, I had to assume that the news would not be good, which made me believe that my brother had somehow overthrown the regent council I'd appointed and seized control for himself.

  This left me with a problem. If my brother had full control of Optorio, there was nothing stopping him from doing everything he wished, including going to war with one of our rivals or sending an endless line of assassins after me.

  “It is useless to speculate,” Anjol said. “You will only increase your own anxiety over what may turn out to be nothing.”

  “Though, it is more likely than not to turn out to be something.”

  “Perhaps. But until you are proven correct, why not do what you said you came here to do and enjoy the music?”

  I sighed and tried to quiet my mind. Anjol was right. I needed to be focused and clear headed. I did not need to get myself worked up about things that were, as of yet, unknown. If Tarkonil was going to tell me that Kapoc had seized control of Optorio, we would figure out the best course of action then. Until then, I tried to keep myself grounded and centered. I would do no good for anybody with my levels of anxiety heightened and my thinking unsound.

  As much as I hated admitting to Anjol when he was right – he was right. I did not know what the coming days would bring, so I needed to calm my mind and enjoy the music while I could. I watched the doorway and let the sound of the music fill my mind and my soul. I closed my eyes and soaked it in as it brought me some small measure of peace.

  “If it helps you at all,” Anjol interrupted the music once more. “She is not here. I find no trace of her anywhere in this city. So you need not concern yourself with that human woman or with matters of the heart. It will do you no good and only further cloud your thinking.”

  Anjol had meant to help me find a sense of peace, but all he did was make the tension I already felt spike even higher. If Paige wasn't in the city at all, where was she? Was she with somebody else? Why had she gone? Did she need to get away from me that badly?

  In the material Anjol had provided me to study up on human emotions and behaviors, I knew there was a name for what I was feeling. They were both foreign to me, and I had to say, I did not enjoy feeling either. But in human terms, what I was feeling was called ‘jealousy and insecurity.’

  Chapter Six: Paige

  “Are you hungry, Paige?” my mother asked. “We have some leftovers from dinner, and I can make you a plate.”

  I gave her a small smile and nodded. “I am pretty hungry actually. That'd be great,” I said. “Thanks, mom.”

  I sat in the kitchen watching my mother bustle around, pulling a few containers out of the refrigerator. She was a small, petite woman. Her graying hair was kept in a ponytail that reached just below her shoulders, and it was the same hairstyle I'd seen her wear just about every single day of my life. She only did her hair up for special occasions. Otherwise, it was always back in that ponytail to keep it out of her way while she cooked, cleaned, or gardened. She was nothing if not practical.

  As I watched her move around, I noticed that she was a little slower and stiffer than I remembered. The lines around her eyes and mouth were a little deeper, and her hair was a couple shades more gray than the last time I'd seen her. It was a reminder to me that time marches on and spares no one. It made me sad to see my mother aging. It made the distance between my parents and I that much more stark, pronounced, and that much more heartbreaking to me.

  I stood up and pulled a plate out of the cabinet and set it down on the counter. I took my seat again and looked around. Not much had changed in this place over the years. My parents were creatures of habit and much preferred the known and comfortable to the new and potentially wild.

  They weren't really the adventurous types and never had been, which was yet another difference in our personalities. As much as I did love routine and the familiar, I absolutely craved different. I longed for adventure. I was willing to put myself out there and take a chance just to see what happened. It was a state of mind and a way of being that they could neither relate to nor understand.

  Growing up – and to this day, truth be told – I often wondered how I came from their genes.

  Even still, despite all of our differences and the relatively recent cooling of our familial relationship, I remembered enjoying plenty of happy times in this house. I remembered a few Christmases spent here that were among the happier times in my life. I remembered a house filled with laughter and joy.

  But as I watched my mother heating up my plate – and my father noticeably absent – I was overcome by a wave of nostalgia, mixed with sadness and longing. I wanted the closeness of our family back. I wanted that unbridled happiness and love again. I missed it and even craved it. Not having my parents fully in my corner and not having them believe in me left me feeling like I had a hole in my heart that I didn't know could ever be filled again.

  “You awake, dear?”

  My mother's voice snapped me out of my reverie. I came back down to earth and found myself looking her
into her eyes – eyes that were much like my own. Hers, though, were filled with concern and something else. Something I couldn't quite place. It was a strange look, but I had no idea what she was thinking.

  I looked down at the plate that she'd put on the counter before me. Taking a deep breath, I savored the aroma. Say what you will, but there really is nothing that beats home cooking. Not the finest steak in the most expensive steak house in the world and not the most amazing plate of sushi in Tokyo. Nothing beat my mom's cooking. It was especially true of her famous spaghetti carbonara.

  The scent of the garlic bread – the garlic and cheese spread made from scratch, of course – as well as the tantalizing aroma of the pasta itself was amazing. My stomach growled in both anticipation and appreciation.

  “I haven't had this in quite a while,” I said.

  “Lucky for you, I was in a mood to make it tonight,” she replied. “Perhaps it was serendipity. It's been months and months since I've made it. It doesn't quite agree with your father's stomach anymore.”

  I gave her a smile and dug into the mound of pasta she'd piled onto my plate. The instant the food hit my mouth, I was in ecstasy. As I chewed, I felt my eyes roll back into my head involuntarily and had to physically restrain myself from making sounds better suited to the bedroom than my mother's kitchen.

  “This is amazing,” I said. “I haven't had a meal this good in I don't know how long.”

  My mother smiled. “Maybe if you came around a little more often...”

  Though she sounded like she was joking, I could see in her eyes that there was a kernel of truth to what she was saying. I could have made a million excuses about being a business owner and not having much time for myself, and they all would have been valid.

  But in that moment, in that house, overcome by a wave of nostalgia and regret, I decided that it was time to be open. Honest. If there was any chance of bridging the gap that existed between my parents and I, now was the time to actually start talking.

  “Honestly,” I started slowly, “I didn't think dad wanted me around.”