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

by Lauren Lively

  “Shit,” I thought to myself, wondering if I should stay on the main street opposed to the small residential street I lived on.

  This late at night, there was hardly anyone around. I quickly turned my blinker off, deciding to go straight instead. I didn't want to lead them back to my place and needed to lose them. When the light turned green, the black sedan behind me continued following close behind. I decided I had no other choice but to drive somewhere public, somewhere where there'd be people around this late at night.

  A public place would be my sanctuary.

  The Mahogany Tavern was up on the left and if Sam was right, there would be crowds of people there. But right before I pulled into the lot and parked before making a run into the public space, the sedan turned left onto a side street. It hadn't been following me after all. I let out a sigh of relief and a small nervous chuckle as I realized just how silly and unfocused I'd been.

  That sedan might have been going this way all along, I thought to myself. It didn't have a blinker on to turn before, like I had. I just assumed it was behind me, assumed that it was following me. And for making that assumption, I was an idiot. A big, fat, paranoid idiot.

  Still, my nerves were wrecked. In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to be surrounded by people – at least to make sure I was safe, not because I particularly wanted the company. But my English paper wasn't going to write itself.

  I made a quick U-turn and headed back toward Oak Tree Road, turning onto my street when I got there. I checked my mirrors and saw no sign of any cars behind me, which was a relief. I parked in my assigned spot, and even though I still saw no sign of the strange car, I hurried into my apartment, slamming and locking the door behind me.

  I'm safe, I told myself. I'm alone. All alone.

  The exhaustion of the day took hold of me quickly, and the siren song of my bed was beckoning me. But I had a paper to write. It was due at eight the next morning, first class of the day, and it was a large part of my grade. I had to get it done, no questions asked.

  But the exhaustion and stress of my life took its toll on me, and I just wanted to curl up in my bed and sleep the days away. Heck, curling up in bed and never waking up didn't sound too bad either. Especially since there was very little worth waking up for. Besides my boring English class, anyway. A class I should be passing with flying colors – but a class I was barely scraping by with a C in.

  But it was a basic class, I needed to pass it to move on to my other classes – classes that might land me a job somewhere other than the Lazy Hen Cafe working for douchebags like Sam. And I was aspiring to something a little higher than that.

  I glanced over at my bed, which wasn't hard to do in my studio apartment, but settled in at my desk instead. My ancient computer took forever and a day to load up, so I walked into the kitchen to get a drink while it loaded everything up.

  Grabbing a soda, I stared into my otherwise empty fridge. I'd been able to snag some freebies from work, so I wasn't starving, but the pickings were incredibly slim. And I was still slightly hungry. But I didn't have the extra income to get things like snacks. My paycheck had to go to rent this week, so my food budget was limited. Really, really limited. At the moment, I had two slices of cheap, processed cheese product, but no bread. I also had a box with a slice of apple pie from last night's shift – and that was it.

  My stomach growled in protest as I stared into the empty refrigerator. I sighed as I grabbed the pie and my knockoff brand of Diet Dr. Pepper before sitting down at my desk and settling into my essay on The Great Gatsby. It was a book I hadn't had time to read, but I'd watched the movie and had internet to help with the rest.

  It was going to be a long ass night, but hey – at least I had pie.

  Some days, that was all I had going for me.

  Chapter Three

  Tarkonil

  My job at the Ministry of Technology came with a lot of perks – including the fact that I had more freedom than others might have in a traditional job. I had the freedom to take long lunch breaks if I'd wanted to, for instance. I didn't typically abuse the rules and freedoms I had been given – but today, I'd decided to take a little trip down to the docks to see what I could see.

  I knew a few guys who worked down there and thought maybe I could ask about any unusual ships coming in with cargo that maybe appeared human in nature. Or at least, not Optorion.

  Dibic “Dibs” was an old friend of mine, someone who had worked with me long ago – long before I'd become an important government official. He was one of Optorio's port managers and was sitting to the side of a hangar, at a table filled with entirely too much clutter, honestly speaking. I wasn't sure how he managed to function in such a mess. But there he was, sitting amongst the scattered debris, eating a sandwich while he was watching a ship come in. It was lunch time for him too, so the timing couldn't have been more perfect.

  “Hey, man,” he said, the moment he saw me walking toward him. “Long time, no see. What brings an important person like you all the way down here to the dirty old docks? Feeling the need to slum around a little?”

  I cringed, hating how my new title seemed to have changed people's perceptions of me. I hated that the fancy sounding words seemed to bring more weight and prestige to it than there actually was. And honestly, I wasn't any different than I had been before. I was just the same old guy. I just happened to be working for the government now, trying to get things back on track and in order.

  “Not much,” I said. “I was just curious to see how things were going down here.”

  “Is this an inspection?” Dibs asked, looking at me with a strange expression on his face.

  “No, not at all. Just a friendly visit for my own edification,” I said. “Though I do have some questions for you.”

  “Figured,” he said, putting his sandwich away with a sigh. “Government types like you don't just come down to this part of town to chit-chat unless it's for a reason. You always want something.”

  “Well, my questions are of a more personal nature. Off-the-record, if you will.”

  Dibs cocked his head and looked intrigued. “Okay, ask away,” he said. “I can't promise I'll have the answers, but I'll do what I can.”

  “That's all I ask, my friend,” I said. “That's all I ask.”

  I looked around and realized that we were right out in the open where anybody and everybody could see us. Too many prying eyes and ears. I saw a couple of men look our way as they walked on, perhaps heading out on a break. But the fact that they'd seen me there made my stomach clench and a bolt of adrenaline shoot through my body. What I was doing – and what I was after – was incredibly delicate, not to mention dangerous. I needed discretion more than anything at this point and being so exposed made me nervous.

  “Can we go inside somewhere?” I asked. “An office, perhaps?”

  Dibs looked at me curiously for a moment before he nodded and motioned for me to follow him. A ship had just landed and a bunch of uniformed men were unloading boxes from it and stacking them on a small hovercraft. There was nothing unusual looking about the shipment being offloaded. And it certainly wasn't what I was looking for. From where I was, it looked like it was probably just some textiles from Xaradu, a nearby planet that was known to have some of the softest fabrics around. Only the richest of the rich could afford them, of course. Especially now. Which made the size of the shipment I was seeing curious to me.

  With poverty and deprivation running rampant among the people of Optorio, who was buying all that material? It was a question that had to be answered later though. At the moment, it was low on the list of my priorities. There were larger things in play right then and I couldn't afford to take my eyes off the bigger picture.

  Dibs closed his office door behind me before moving across the office to his desk and sitting down with a loud sigh. The expression on his face was one of irritation – whether it was because I was taking up his time, or because he believed I was one of those types who only came ar
ound when I wanted something, I couldn't be sure. But I needed his help and had to make sure to not alienate him.

  I sat across from him and cleared my throat as I looked around, not sure where or how to begin. His office was tiny, but at least he had an office – and a job. Which was a whole lot more than some people – a lot of people, really – could say. Most of those guys out there working the docks weren't regular employees. Most of them weren't even from Optorio. They were day laborers brought in from off world, meaning not only did they not have an office – they might not even have a job come tomorrow morning. They were brought in because they were cheap labor and they didn't complain about much of anything.

  It was a disgusting practice on par with slavery, in my opinion. But that wasn't why I was there either. That would have to be just one more item on my agenda – but one I'd get to when I had the time. Which I didn't at the moment. But that time would come. I would make sure of it.

  “So what's going on?” Dibs asked me, taking a sip from his cup. “If this isn't an inspection or official government business, why are you here? What can I help you with?”

  I could see another ship coming in through the window. I watched it descending from the sky, its thrusters gently lowering it to the ground. As I watched it dock gracefully, I found myself remembering a time when I used to work on ships like that. I used to be able to take an entire engine apart – and then put it back together again – with my eyes closed. Once upon a time, I knew the ins and outs of most engines and machinery. It was one of my gifts, one of my talents, I supposed.

  But ever since joining the Council, I hadn't used those gifts and talents all that much. I was feeling a little rusty and wasn't sure I'd remember how to get around an engine anymore. But then, part of me figured that it was second nature to me and once I rolled up my sleeves and got my hands dirty again, I'd fall right back into it with ease.

  There was part of me that longed for those days. Everything had seemed – simpler – back then. I hadn't been saddled with reports and debate and oversight and everything else that being a part of Optorio's governing body entailed. And I certainly had never had to deal with the intrigues and subterfuge I was currently engaged in. No, back then all I had to do was fix what was broken and send it on its way. I missed those days.

  Dibs cleared his throat, bringing me back to the present. He looked at me, eyes narrowed and an inscrutable expression on his face. I gave him a small smile and cleared my own throat before speaking.

  “You monitor all shipments that come in and out of the port, don't you?” I asked. “You log the ships that come in and out and their cargo?”

  “That I do,” Dibs said. “That, I do. That's my job.”

  “And you keep records on them all?”

  “Of course. As mandated by law,” he said, sounding offended that I would even dare suggest he was somehow derelict in his duty. “Would you like to see 'em?”

  “Maybe. But first things first – I need to see what you might know,” I said. “Do you keep track of every item that gets shipped?”

  Dibs narrowed his gaze. “Do I inspect every box that comes and goes out of here you mean?”

  “Yes, just to make sure everything inside is exactly what's supposed to be there.”

  Dibs let out a long breath, running a hand through his short-cropped hair. “You know we're too understaffed to open every container that comes through here. There's only so much time in the day. And given the volume of goods that come through this port, it's impossible to check every single box on every single shipment,” he said.

  I cocked my head and looked at him. “Then how do you keep accurate records?”

  “Well, we do spot checks. It's always worked before,” he said. “And for the most part, we trust the vendors we work with. They have to have the appropriate licenses and bonds, and prove to us that they are a legitimate operation before anybody on Optorio is allowed to do business with them. That's how it works.”

  “Do you think any of them could be lying about what they're carrying?” I asked. “Or forging the necessary paperwork to offload their cargo?”

  Dibs was quiet for a few moments and looked at me evenly. “I'm sure some of them are,” he said. “Especially these days.”

  I sat back in my seat. “What do you mean, especially these days?”

  He shrugged. “Never mind. Not really my business to dip into.”

  “It very well could be,” I said. “Or I can make it your business by making it my business. What did you mean by that?”

  He sighed and when he spoke, it was with tremendous hesitation. “I just mean that I've heard rumors...”

  “What kind of rumors, Dibs?”

  He looked at me, his eyes wide and pleading. “Look, I don't like passing on rumors. I don't know if they're true or not.”

  I knew what he was afraid of and it wasn't passing on rumors. “Do not worry, Dibs,” I reassured him. “I will keep your name out of any official documentation. And whether or not there is any truth to these rumors will be for me to determine.”

  He didn't look the slightest bit relieved, but I saw the look of resignation in his eyes. I believed that he was a good man and that whatever was going on, upset him. I knew Dibs well enough to know that he didn't like thieves and he didn't like liars.

  “Look, Tarkonil,” he said. “You have to believe that we try to do things the right way here. I do my best to keep everyone on their toes. We have a zero tolerance policy for illegal contraband. And if any of my guys are caught transporting those things to or from Optorio, not only would they have to answer to you fine folks, of course. But first, they'd have to answer to me.”

  “I understand,” I said. “And it's not your integrity that I am questioning. Believe me about that. But I need to know what these rumors you are hearing are.”

  He sighed again. “From what I've been told, there are some port managers and inspectors who are being paid off to look the other way when certain shipments come in.”

  His tone was angry, but there was a bit of relief mixed in with it as well. It was as if the burden he'd been carrying on his shoulders by keeping that secret had been lifted – and it felt good. Like I'd said, Dibs didn't like liars and thieves. But he also wasn't one to traffic in unfounded rumors, either. I got the feeling he'd never looked very deeply into it because he didn't want to know.

  “What's being brought in, Dibs?”

  He shook his head. “Couldn't tell you for sure,” he said. “Off world drugs, I assume. I hear some of the kids in the cities are going crazy for this new crystal drug from somewhere off world. Other than that, I really couldn't say.”

  Drugs. That didn't surprise me in the least. I was sure there were all sorts of other contraband flowing in through our ports thanks to corrupt managers and inspectors. The drug problem would have to be handled, of course. Dibs was right, there was a drug craze sweeping through some of our biggest cities and it was destroying lives. It would have to be dealt with – and it would be. But not right then.

  In that moment, I wasn't after drugs or the people running them. I was looking for information on the trafficking of people – Optorions being shipped out and alien beings being brought in.

  “Have you heard rumors, regardless of how vague or unsubstantiated, of anybody trafficking in – living cargo?”

  “Living cargo?” he asked. “As in wild animals? I've heard a few things here and there, but most of it's above board. Most of the ones I've dealt with had appropriate permits and all. I haven't heard of a big black market for exotic beasts from other worlds. Could be happening – I just haven't heard a whisper about it.”

  “Well, not animals, exactly, but –”

  “Listen, Tarkonil,” he started. “I don't know what you're trying to get at here, but you're asking me if I know of anyone transporting living cargo, and all I can say is no. I don't know anything about all of that. And I wouldn't condone it either.”

  “Of course you wouldn't, Dibs,” I said s
oftly. “I know that.”

  I got to thinking – Dibs was only one man and he had a solid reputation as a straight shooter. And he worked days. If I were going to bring in illegal cargo, I'd likely do it in the dead of the night when Dibs wasn't around. When there wasn't really anybody around and security was a little more – lax.

  “Who's the supervisor once you leave for the day?” I asked.

  “Zavrik. He works the overnight shift, usually.”

  “Zavrik, that name doesn't ring a bell,” I said, mainly talking to myself.

  “He's only been managing the port for a few months now. Not long. New guy,” he said. “Not sure where he came from before he started here, but between you and me, he isn’t cut out for this job.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  Dibs shrugged. “I shouldn't say anything more,” he said. “Not if I want to keep my job.”

  “This conversation is between you and me, Dibs. You can trust my discretion and that I will keep this all confidential,” I said. “Is he doing something illegal?”

  “Not that I know of. Not that I can prove, anyway,” Dibs said. “He just can't do anything right. He has no experience, and his paperwork is always screwed up – which means I have to do twice as much work to try to get the correct information we need for our records. And we're so busy that I really don't have the time to go dig it all up. And that's exactly why you'll find documents with a ton of missing information coming out of this port. I keep telling Zavrik that he needs to go back through and fix them, but he never does. Always says he's too busy. But you know what this place is like at night. I'm pretty certain he's just off somewhere sleeping.”

  Dibs' rant might sound like a typical workplace rant, but there was something there – just beneath the surface – that stood out to me. Maybe I was just looking for an excuse to believe in the worst case scenario, but this Zavrik sounded like trouble to me. And his incompetence sounded deliberate – not the shortcomings of a lazy, underqualified supervisor

  “Thank you Dibs,” I said. “Would you mind if I took a look at those records myself? And please, do not worry. All of this is still very much off-the-record and confidential. You have my word.”