Killer Bear

by Dillon, Kym

  For a moment, she thought it wouldn’t work. His bicep flexed and unflexed rapidly under her touch, and she could see the tension in his neck and in his curled fingers. “Blood,” he whispered again.

  Allie looked around the yard. It was a mess, as usual, but there was no blood to be seen. What was he talking about? “We’re fine, Mark,” she said, trying to keep her voice smooth and gentle. “No blood. We’re safe, I promise. Open your eyes.”

  To her surprise, he did so. His gaze was unfocused, but his breathing slowed a little, and Allie thought he must recognize the backyard. She stepped closer, feeling surreal, and wrapped her arms around his waist, laying her head on his chest. “Shhh,” she whispered. “Everything’s all right.”

  And then, suddenly, as quickly as it had come on, it was over. Mark was himself again. She knew the moment it happened—his arms went around her, caught her up, and his hands were open again, cradling her back, her head. She thought he was about to pull her in for a kiss, but he didn’t. Instead, he crushed her against his body and pivoted them so he was between her and the house. “Go home, Allie,” he said, his voice a rasp.

  She looked up at him. “What?”

  “Go home. Now. Run. Get inside your house, lock all the doors, and stay there, do you understand? Stay there until I come to get you.”

  “No, Mark, I don’t understand…”

  “It isn’t safe here,” he said urgently, looking her in the eyes. “Trust me?”

  “Yes, of course I do, but…”

  “Then trust me now. Go. Right now. I promise I’ll come over later and explain everything, but there’s no time now, just go.” He had maneuvered them across the yard to the gate, and now he pulled it open and gently pushed her through with one hand. “Allie, swear to me that you’ll do what I said.”

  “I...I swear,” she nodded, slipping a hand behind her back and crossing her fingers. It was just a white lie.

  Mark nodded, leaned over the fence to kiss her, then turned and ran around to the front of the house.

  Allie watched him go, then climbed the fence and crept around the opposite side of the house. Mark had followed the path that ran from the backyard to the porch on the left of the house. The right was overgrown with weeds and dying shrubbery, and it made for a much harder road, but she was determined. Finally she reached the front of the house and concealed herself in the bushes, watching the porch anxiously.

  A moment later, Mark emerged from the house, looking confused. He closed the door and bent to examine it. Allie gasped aloud and then clapped a hand over her mouth. There were long scratches on the wood of the door that looked as if they might have been made by claws. The handle had clearly been broken. And as Allie watched, Mark stooped and picked up something from the porch that looked like it might have been part of the door’s locking mechanism.

  Had it been a break-in? That would explain Mark’s behavior in the backyard just now, Allie thought. He must have smelled the intruder. Shifters would obviously have heightened senses of smell. That would make sense, she thought. A carryover from their animal side. And that would also explain why he had sent Allie home with such urgency. If he thought someone was here who shouldn’t be, he might be worried for her safety.

  But then, why was he standing here on the porch looking puzzled? What had he found when he’d searched the house? What had the intruder done? Had anything been taken? And had Mark found any clues as to who had broken into his home?

  He had promised to come to Allie’s house with news as soon as he could. Already, she felt a little guilty for having spied on him when he’d told her to leave. She had seen enough, she decided. She would go back to her own house and wait for him. Whatever was going on, there was no way she could possibly decode it on her own. She would have to wait for his explanation.

  Ducking low so as not to be seen, Allie ran back to her own house to await answers.

  13

  The wait was interminable. Allie was fidgety, anxious, unable to settle to anything until she heard from Mark. Her instinct was to call the police and report a break-in, but she knew she shouldn’t. Mark had asked her to trust him. Until she knew what Mark had found inside the house, she would run the risk of making more trouble for him. He was already a suspected murderer, and she knew the authorities would use anything they could to strengthen the currently flimsy case against him.

  Then, there were the scratches she’d seen on the front door. They really had looked like claw marks. Did that mean a shifter be responsible? That would make sense, Allie thought. Who else in town would even have the nerve to break into the home of someone they thought was a dangerous criminal? But if Mark was right about the Black Bear Clan framing him, then they already knew he wasn’t a killer. They would have no reservations about surprising him at home. That would explain what he had been sniffing around for in the backyard, too. He must have caught the scent of another bear. That was why he had come so close to shifting. He’d smelled a threat. But when he’d walked back out of the house, onto the porch, the look on his face was clearly confusion. He definitely hadn’t looked like someone who’d encountered a bear in their house. Why would a member of the Black Bear Clan break in only to leave before Mark got home?

  She went into the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee. She needed to know more about this, she decided, as quickly as possible. She needed to learn all the details of this shifter world, so that she would have the answers to these questions when they came up. Whatever was going on here, Allie was sure it made perfect sense from a shifter’s perspective. It was the fact that she was an outsider that prevented her from putting two and two together. Mark would explain everything as soon as he arrived. She left the heat on under the coffee pot and took her own cup back to the living room so she could stare out the window, across the street, for signs of life at his house.

  It felt like hours went by before she saw him. He emerged through the backyard gate, glanced around furtively, and ran across the street. He didn’t want to be seen. Allie hurried to her door to let him in, wondering what the urgency was all about. Did he think the shifter who had broken into his house was still in the area? Was he in danger?

  “Shut the door,” he said as soon as he was over the threshold, and then he reached around her and threw the deadbolt. He stepped past her into the living room and inhaled deeply.

  “Mark—”

  “Hang on.” He sniffed the air again. “Okay. We’re clear.”

  “Did you think he was here?” Allie asked, mesmerized.”

  “Did I think who was here?”

  “I don’t know. Whoever broke into your house. It was another shifter, wasn’t it?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

  “I saw your front door,” she admitted. “I’m sorry. I know you told me to go straight home, but curiosity got the better of me. And when I saw what had happened to your door, I thought it must have been a shifter. Was I right?”

  “Probably,” Mark said gruffly. “No way to know for sure. You shouldn’t have done that, Allie.”

  “What’s the big deal?” she asked. “It’s not going to stay a secret. Your door faces a main road.”

  “The big deal is that you don’t take this seriously enough.” He sighed. “I’m not sure you ever will.”

  “I take it seriously,” she protested. “You’re my mate, Mark. I do have a right to know what’s going on with you, don’t I?”

  Mark shook his head. “We need to talk, Allie.”

  “I know, I’ve been waiting to hear about the break-in. Let me just get you a cup of coffee. I’m sure you need it.”

  “No.” Mark grabbed her arm. His grip was firm, as firm as it had been the day they’d first reconnected in the police station, and for a moment Allie was sure he was about to back her up against a wall and kiss her fiercely again. She even parted her lips in anticipation. But instead, Mark steered her over to the couch and sat her down.

  “What’s going on?” Allie asked
.

  Mark sank into the armchair adjacent to the couch. “Allie, we need to end this.”

  “End what?” He couldn’t be saying what she thought he was saying.

  “You and I can’t be together,” he said. “It’s too risky.”

  “Risky? I can take care of myself,” she protested. “Besides, it isn’t up to you what risks I choose to take. Life is full of one risk or another, and I say you’re worth it.”

  “No. I’m dangerous. My whole life is dangerous,” he said. “I have enemies, and they’re powerful and volatile, and you could get hurt if you stay with me.”

  “You’re not listening to me.” She gripped his hand. “You’re worth it, Mark. I care for you. I love you. The things I feel for you are bigger than anything else in my life. I didn’t know love like this existed. I am not walking away. Not for any reason, and certainly not because it might be risky.”

  Mark pulled his hand away. “No,” he said, and his voice had cooled considerably. “You’re not listening. I’m saying we’re over, Allie. I’m not asking your opinion here, I’m not giving you the option of taking a risk or not taking a risk. I’m ending this.”

  Her blood froze. “But you want this too, Mark. I know you do.”

  He shook his head. “It was easy to fall into,” he said. “Maybe I pretended to myself that it was more than it was. Maybe I let myself believe feelings were there when they weren’t, because I wanted them to be. Because it was nice to reconnect with a friend from the old days, before my life because such a mess.”

  “What are you saying?” she whispered.

  “I wanted us to be something real,” he said quietly, not meeting her eyes. “I wanted us to be something more than we are.”

  “We are! We’re mates, Mark,” Allie protested. “You explained it to me yourself. You told me every shifter has one mate, one person out there who’s meant for them. And I’m yours. You said it…”

  He was shaking his head. “I’m sorry. I wanted it to be true. But it isn’t. We aren’t mates. I was wrong.”

  “No, you weren’t,” Allie said firmly. Of that, she was certain. “I felt it. I know what I felt. It was real.”

  “Maybe you felt something, but it wasn’t a mating bond,” Mark said. “I’m sorry. I really am. I know I led you on. Whatever you felt was within the bounds of normal human affection.”

  Allie opened her mouth to retort, but paused. Was it possible Mark was right? What did she know about it, after all? She wasn’t a shifter. She had thought her feelings for Mark were normal human feelings until he’d explained about the mating bond, and then she’d just taken for granted that what he was saying was true, that they were mates. She had certainly wanted to believe it. But it was possible, wasn’t it, that the crush she’d had on him in childhood had just matured? That her feelings for him were so potent because they had been growing inside her for so long? Maybe this had been nothing but a regular old relationship, and now he was breaking up with her because he didn’t love her the way she loved him.

  “Take the job,” he said. He still wasn’t looking at her. His hands were knotted tightly together in his lap. “Take the job in New York. It’s a great offer. Better than anything you’ll find here. And I couldn’t live with myself if you turned it down to be with me.”

  “But I want to be with you,” she whispered, feeling ashamed, pathetic. Her eyes filled with tears. She felt like a fool. She swallowed hard, trying to force down the urge to cry.

  “I’m sorry,” Mark said, and Allie couldn’t help but notice that there was no emotion whatsoever in his voice. “I should have been more discerning. But, I don’t want to be with you, Allie. You’re a great person, and I wish you well. I want you to take the job. But, I don’t feel that way about you. I can’t feel it. What I told you about the mating bond was true. I’ll only have one mate in my life, and I can’t control who that is. The bear chooses, not me. I have to wait for the right person to show up, and she isn’t you.”

  Allie stared into her coffee, unable to think of anything to say. If only she could think of the right words to make him change his mind! She could feel him slipping out of her reach, even as they sat together in the living room.

  Mark got to his feet. “I should go,” he said, and made his way to the door. He hesitated awkwardly for a moment in the entryway, and for half a heartbeat Allie believed he was going to turn back to her and tell her he hadn’t meant any of it. It had all been some kind of cruel joke, a prank. Then the door opened and closed behind him. He was gone.

  The tears that had threatened finally spilled over. How could she have made the mistake of trusting someone so unpredictable with her heart? She should have listened to Dani and the rest of her friends when they’d taken her out her first night in Cedar Rapids. She should have hung up the phone the night Frank Toomey called her to serve as Mark’s attorney. She should never have gotten involved with him in the first place. Allie knew she had no one to blame but herself.

  14

  Well, Allie thought to herself, lying in bed that night, at least I don’t have much to pack.

  She had been lying awake for hours, unable to sleep, struggling to find a bright side in everything that had happened. So far, the best she had been able to come up with was that there wasn’t much to pack. Allie had never had many possessions of her own—the apartment she had lived in in New York had been rented to her furnished, and except for her small collections of and books, she didn’t have many personal effects. She had been able to bring everything home with her in two suitcases when she’d first returned to Cedar Rapids, and her journey back to New York would be just as free of complication.

  Fitzpatrick had offered Allie a signing bonus when she had called him back to accept his job offer. She would use the money to lease a new apartment, and, until she found one, she would use her savings to stay at one of the city’s luxury hotels. She had earned herself a treat. The new job wouldn’t start in earnest for a week, and Allie planned to use her remaining downtime pampering herself. She would relax, sip cocktails, get massages, and not think about Mark. It sounded perfect.

  But every time she closed her eyes, his face swam before her. Damn it, she though, rolling over and punching her pillow into a new shape. Why had she allowed herself to develop feelings for him? And why in the world had she let herself believe those feelings were shared? Because he had told her a fairy tale about soul mates and true love? She was too old to believe in that kind of thing.

  You’re also too old to believe in people turning into animals, her traitorous brain reminded her. You accepted that easily, because you saw it happen. That’s why you believed in the mating bond. You had evidence. You felt it. It was real.

  But it hadn’t been real. Mark had told her so, and what reason did he have to lie?

  Despite everything, she hoped he would be able to clear up his legal difficulties. Part of her really wanted to stay in Cedar Rapids and continue serving as his attorney until she could be sure he would go free. She might have been wrong about what she felt and the connection between them, but Allie prided herself on her ability to read the guilt or innocence of people accused of high crimes. She had a gift for it, not to mention a wealth of experience. But she was sure he wouldn’t have accepted her help. He had made it clear that he wanted to sever ties with her. And although he’d said he wanted her to take Fitzpatrick’s job offer because it was the best thing for her, Allie thought he probably just wanted her out of town.

  Well, that was fine. She wouldn’t burden him with her presence any longer. Her flight to New York left at nine in the morning, and when she returned to Cedar Rapids to visit her parents, she would be making an effort not to see Mark or anyone else. He could count on never coming into contact with her again.

  Of course, she was going to have real trouble making that flight if she didn’t get to sleep soon…

  Suddenly, there was a rattling at the window. Allie bolted upright and swiveled to stare out. After a pause, the sound c
ame again, and this time she saw the hailstorm of pebbles sprinkling against the glass. Mark. That was his signal. What could he be doing here in the middle of the night? He came to apologize for the things he’d said. Allie was certain of it. If that’s what he thought he was doing, he was in for a rude awakening. Allie was tired of being jerked around. She flopped back down in bed, determined to ignore the signal.

  But it came again, sounding somehow even more insistent. Now Allie was starting to get angry. Who did he think he was? He’d embarrassed her downtown when Dani had seen them, and then he’d insisted that it was no big deal. Then, just as she’d started to trust him again, he had broken up with her and told her their whole relationship had been based on nothing! And now he had the nerve to come over to her house in the middle of the night and throw pebbles at her window, the way he had when they were children? When they were friends? He couldn’t possibly be thinking they could preserve their friendship, could he? After everything that had happened?

  Was she being unreasonable? She didn’t think so. The idea of sitting face to face with him, of talking with him, was almost unbearable. She knew she would go insane with the urge to touch him, kiss him, beg him to rethink things. And if he was to be believed, things couldn’t be rethought. The bear had chosen, and the choice hadn’t been Allie.

  Another handful of pebbles struck the window. Allie pulled her pillow over her head, trying to block out the noise. This was madness. How was she supposed to fall asleep with this noise? She considered getting up and going to sleep in the living room, on the sofa, where she wouldn’t be able to hear the rocks striking her window, but the idea of being in there was equally unbearable. The living room was the scene of their breakup. Being on the couch would make the image of Mark’s face in her mind that much more vivid.

  There was only one thing to do, she decided as yet another cluster of pebbles sounded against the glass. She would face him. She would have to. She would tell him not to bother, to go away, and then not give him time to reply. If he started talking, she knew, she would be at risk of being swayed. She would listen to what he had to say. And, truly, she didn’t want to hear it.