Cynful hs-2

by Dana Marie Bell

  The other path, if you could even call it that, appeared chock full of thorn bushes and sharp rocks. Even the air down that path appeared different, full of menace.

  “Gee, Captain Obvious. I wonder which path I should take.” She’d been a fearless adventurer in her Dungeons & Dragons days. She was pretty sure she could guess where this little side trip was going. She gritted her teeth and covered her boobs with her hands. There were some places she really didn’t want scratched all to hell and gone, thank you very much.

  The moment she set her foot on the dark path, she realized she’d made the right choice. “OW! Mother puss-bucket!”

  After an eternity of painful steps, her flesh gouged in places that would make sitting down very difficult, the path finally opened up. Blue skies and a meadow full of wildflowers greeted her weary gaze. In the middle of that meadow a child knelt, crying. Over her stood a man, his hands at his sides, his expression pinched. The child cringed as the man raised his voice, his words muffled by the distance between them. He raised his fist into the air and shook it.

  Cyn’s eyes narrowed. That man was bullying the child. Without even having to think about it she reached behind her and grabbed hold of a thorny branch, breaking it off the bush. She darted in front of the child and held the branch in front of her like a sword. “Hold it! Leave the girl alone.”

  The man’s searing white eyes burned into hers. “You do not believe I justly chastise her?”

  Cyn shifted her stance, ready to defend the girl. “It’s possible. But if I’m wrong, you’ll have hurt her, and I can’t allow that.”

  “What if she were the danger, and not I? An innocent face can hide a monster just as easily as an ugly one.”

  Cyn shook her head, certain of one thing. “Her posture. She was down, kneeling. Defenseless. Her hands were on her face, so unless she’s got daggers up her nose I don’t think she was hiding a weapon.”

  “So you put your back to her, hoping I was the threat.”

  “No. To protect a child.” She waved the stick at him. “Are we done with twenty questions now? I have places to be.” Bear butt to kick.

  The man smiled, his teeth blindingly white, and held out his hand. The child took it, using her free one to wipe away her tears. “Look behind you. The path continues on. Know that the one you have set your feet upon will be difficult, but I believe it suits you.”

  The man and the child both smiled at her and disappeared.

  She turned and stared at the path. It was remarkably similar to the one she’d just left. “Peachy.”

  God, part of her just wanted to lay down in the meadow and sleep, but she couldn’t. Again, if she faltered here the elusive something she needed would be lost. She had the feeling she would wake up in the real world, puking and completely human.

  There was no real choice to make. Cyn put her foot on the path and cursed at the top of her lungs in both English and Spanish.

  Hours, perhaps a day, passed, as more of Cyn’s skin was stripped away by the thorns. She was bleeding so badly now that if it hadn’t been a dream she was sure she would have died from the wounds. She ignored the few side paths that opened up to her, her only goal to move forward. Sheer determination kept her on her feet when she should have faltered.

  The path opened before her and she sighed in relief. Too much more and she would have gone down, willing or not.

  Her bare, bleeding feet met stone and she gasped. The feel of the cool stone was a balm to her sore soles. She wiggled her toes, almost wishing it were grass instead of stone.

  When she was able to focus again, she almost sobbed. There, on a pedestal, was a shield, a sword, a set of leather biker gear, complete with boots, and the kind of staff she’d seen martial artists use.

  “Gee. I wonder which one I should pick up.” She rolled her eyes and limped to the pedestal, the thorny branch she’d been clutching this entire time falling with a clatter to the ground. She sighed over the leather clothes, because, damn those were pretty. Too bad she couldn’t take more than one item. It was weird, the certainty she had that the moment she made her choice, all the other objects would disappear.

  She reached for the staff as soon as it was within reach. As nice as the clothes were, all they would do was cover her nudity and protect her skin. That wouldn’t be enough, not against a shifter. The shield would keep her from being damaged, but that was all. She supposed she could ram someone with it, but she risked having it taken from her if she did. The sword was designed solely to do harm, with very little defense unless you were a professional fencer. Something Cyn definitely was not.

  The staff, on the other hand… The staff could be both weapon and shield, and was just what she needed.

  The clearing disappeared in a brilliant flash of light as the staff practically leapt into her hands. When she blinked her vision clear she found herself at the top of a cliff, overlooking a rocky sea. All of her wounds were healed, but she was still covered in her own gore.

  Obstructing her view was a very large, very white bear.

  Cyn clutched her staff. If this was the final test, she was in big trouble. “Hi.”

  The bear snorted as if amused.

  Right. “So. I’m here. Now what?”

  The bear stared at her.

  She leaned on the staff and stared right back.

  The bear’s nose wrinkled ever so slightly. She would have missed it if she hadn’t been staring so hard.

  Cyn lifted her foot and scratched the itchy, healed wound on the bottom.

  The bear just sat there, blinking, as if it had all day to wait. If only she could figure out what it was waiting for, then they’d be golden.

  “You want me to find you some honey? A cookie? Maybe a small, furry animal? You could hug it and love it and call it George.” She scratched at some of the dried blood on her stomach. “I could really use a shower.”

  Water drenched her from a little black cloud that appeared over her head. She pushed her soaked hair out of her eyes and glared at the bear. “You’re funny. I should call you Baloo.”

  The bear’s left shoulder twitched. She was willing to bet tomorrow’s lunch that it was laughing at her.

  Julian grimaced as Cyn twisted painfully beneath the sheets. Shit. This wasn’t going at all the way he’d expected. She was reacting as if she was in pain, her body shuddering and sweating. His hands itched to heal a wound that wasn’t there. For the first time in his life Julian battled his Bear. There was nothing he could do for his mate. She was on her own.

  A low moan drifted from her lips and his Bear turned frantic, striving to break through Julian’s control, to heal the damage that had to be there.

  Shit. What the hell had Cyn done now?

  “Thirty-six bottles of beer on the wall, thirty-six bottles of beer,” Cyn sang under her breath. She was lying on her back, staring at the clouds drifting lazily overhead. Her hair was almost dry, and she’d gotten most of the blood off her skin.

  At her feet was the white bear. It still sat there, unmoving. Staring. It no longer creeped her out. Now it just…bored her.

  “Julian is much quieter when he comes to visit me.”

  Damn. I still had thirty-five bottles to go. “I bet. Super Bear isn’t much of a talker.” She leaned up on her elbows and blew her bangs out of her eyes. “Okay, that’s wrong. He talks, it just takes a while to get anything out of him that means something.”

  The bear huffed out something that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

  “See? You get what I’m talking about.”

  “Yes. I understand more than you think.” The bear lumbered to its feet, its massive head hovering over her. Suddenly Cyn didn’t feel so much like a warrior as a late-night Taco Bell snack. “There are many things in store for you, Cynthia Reyes-DuCharme, and not all of them will be pleasant.”

  Big bear head in the way or not, Cyn was on her feet, the staff in her hand, before the bear could blink. “Is Julian in danger?”

  The bear was l
ooking at her with approval. “Yes.”

  Her heart stuttered. “Shit. I knew it.”

  “So you did.” The bear’s head lifted; it sniffed the wind. “Change is coming, whether it is wanted or not. Two becomes one, one becomes three. Bear knows the way, but Fox holds the key.” Its eyes focused on her again. “Guard my child well, warrior. He will need you in the days to come.”

  She nodded. Guarding Julian was a given. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”

  “It is not permitted for me to tell more than I have. There are decisions that must be made on your own, decisions that will influence those that others will make. Your strength and courage will take you far, but do not dismiss what your heart tells you.”

  “I’ll try.” It was the best she could offer.

  “You will.” The bear began to glow. “It is time for you to return. Your mate is frantic with worry. He fights his Bear, fearing you are injured.”

  Suddenly it all made sense. She’d heard Julian discuss Bear as a person rather than some amorphous concept. “Wait. You’re—”

  She was hurtled into the darkness, her question unasked and unanswered.

  Chapter Twelve

  She took a deep, gasping breath, and Julian sagged with relief. She was all right.

  Her eyes opened, and it was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. They were deep brown and frightened. He wrapped himself around her cold body and breathed in her scent.

  She smelled of Bear. She’d been accepted. He peppered kisses across the mating mark. “You’re all right.”

  She tugged his braid before stroking his back. “You’re shaking.”

  He just hugged her tighter. She’d terrified him. He’d thought Bear had taken a dislike to her and ripped her soul to shreds.

  “I feel like I went a few rounds with that big-ass bear. Ow.”

  He flinched. “Did you?”

  “Did I what?”

  “Fight Bear.”

  “No.” She tugged on his braid again, harder this time. “We sang the beer bottle song and had a cozy chat. All we needed were s’mores and a campfire.”

  He laughed, the hysterical edge to it surprising him. “I bet he loved you.”

  “Oh yeah. He invited me back for tea, once the bleeding stopped.”

  Bleeding? His Bear wailed, but Julian could sense no real damage had been done to her. If there had been spiritual wounds, Bear must’ve healed them. That was beyond even Julian’s power. “Tell me everything.”

  “That might take a while.”

  He settled in more comfortably, cradling her close. She rested her head against his chest and he damn near howled like a wolf at the feeling of rightness. “We have time.”

  “Let’s see. There was a long, dusty road with sharp, pointy rocks. I expected a Gorn to pop out any minute and challenge me to a duel. And did I mention I was naked?”

  Julian chuckled. Only his Cyn would think of a classic Star Trek episode while wandering in the spirit world.

  “I came to a crossroads and saw a glass of water that was half full.”

  Interesting. He’d found a book on his first journey. “What did you do with it?”

  “Drank it.”

  He blinked. “Oh.” He shouldn’t be surprised. He’d picked the book up and tried to read it. It had surprised him when it disappeared out of his hands.

  “What? I was thirsty. Anyway, one branch of the path seemed pretty much the same as the one I was already on. The other was chock full of thorns and stones.”

  He winced. “Let me guess which one you took.”

  “Hey, I played Dungeons & Dragons. You never take the easy path. There’s always a trap at the end of it.”

  “This wasn’t a game.” If only she’d taken the other trail…

  She rolled her head until they were eye to eye. “You took the easy way, didn’t you?”

  “Not easy. Different.” Who the hell would willingly walk down a path full of sharp stones and thorns? It seemed like a remarkably stupid thing to do, deliberately inviting pain that way. The other path might have been longer, but it was no less challenging.

  Wariness crept into her expression. “I didn’t have to go down the thorny path?”

  “Nope.” First decision made, first crisis met and overcome. Something told him the outcome was going to be exactly what he’d expected. “Then what?”

  “A meadow with a man standing over a crying girl, yelling at her.”

  Uh-oh. Julian remembered something similar. He’d watched for a few moments to discover the problem, and then had done his best to bandage the child’s leg. “What did you do?”

  “Grabbed a branch and protected the girl.”

  Yes, that sounded like his Cyn. “What happened?”

  “The man asked me if I was sure he was the threat and not the child. I pretty much told him to shove off, and the two pointed me toward my next path and disappeared.”

  “Another thorny one, I assume.”

  “And worse than the last one. I almost didn’t make it.”

  He froze. Those who didn’t make it on that path… Best not think about that. He was going to have nightmares as it was.

  “I got to the end and there was this table with four objects on it.”

  “A book, a chalice, a healer’s kit and a dream catcher.”

  She looked at him like he’d grown snakes on his head. “A sword, a shield, biker leathers and a staff.”

  “Oh.” Yeah. That pretty much summed up what he’d thought would happen. No way was Cyn a Spirit Bear. Damn. He tamped down the disappointment. It wasn’t that big a deal. At least she was Bear now, rather than Puma, like she’d threatened more than once.

  “I want those leathers.”

  His eyebrow quirked. “Have a thing for leather, do you?”

  She grinned. “You have no idea. But I took the staff.”

  “Why?”

  “Protection and a weapon in one convenient package.”

  “Ah.” He was beginning to see the pattern, and while it wasn’t adding up to Spirit Bear, it wasn’t adding up to Black Bear, either. A Black Bear would have gone for the leathers or the shield. What was going on?

  “Then BAM! I’m sitting in front of this huge white bear who’s just…staring at me. Sitting and staring. It was creepy, especially since I was naked.”

  “I meditated.”

  “I sang the beer song. I still had thirty-five to go when he decided I was a Chatty Cathy, unlike some people.”

  From the glare she was shooting him he could guess who those people were. “So? What did he say?”

  “Other than how quiet you are?” She took a deep breath. “Two becomes one, one becomes three. Bear knows the way, but Fox holds the key. Oh, and that change is coming.”

  Great. Wonderful. That was three times the message had been delivered. He hoped the spirits considered it received. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  Those beautiful eyes widened. Her left eyebrow twitched. “Nothing.”

  He shot her a look that had gotten more than one reluctant patient to admit something they didn’t want to.

  “I’m serious.” She frowned. “Okay, there is one thing.”

  “Hmm?”

  “He called me warrior.”

  Julian stared at her. That couldn’t mean what he thought it did, could it? He buried his nose against her neck and breathed in her scent again. When he finally understood exactly what he smelled he laughed so hard he fell off the bed.

  She leaned over the edge and glared at him. Then she lifted her arm and sniffed her pit. “Do I offend?”

  He’d never understood the laughing-so-hard-until-you-cried thing before, but now he totally got it. Alex was going to be tickled pink.

  And Eric was in for a serious shock.

  Cyn woke to the feel of a heavy arm across her middle and the sensation that she’d had a really rough night. Her body ached in ways it hadn’t in a long time. She moved her leg, ready to climb out of bed and answer a r
ather urgent call of nature when the arm tightened.

  “Don’t go.”

  Damn. Julian’s sleep-roughened voice made all sorts of things quiver inside her. “I will go if you don’t let me up.”

  He snorted a laugh and rolled over, releasing her to run for the bathroom like a bear was after her butt. After she was done she helped herself to his toothbrush and combed out her hair, which was sticking up in all sorts of new and interesting ways.

  She took a good, long look at herself when she was done. She didn’t look any different. She certainly didn’t feel any different. Maybe it had all been a crazy, sex-induced dream?

  Fingers brushed over the bite mark on her neck and she darn near fell to the floor in a puddle of goo. “Morning, Cyn.” His lips brushed the mark and her knees gave out. “Whoa!” He caught her before she fell, strong arms wrapped around her waist. “You okay?”

  “What the fuck was that?” She brushed her fingertips across the mark. The sensation was still there, but not nearly as strong. It was like someone was gently stroking her clit, just enough to interest but not enough to arouse.

  “Well…” Julian licked the mark, and she moaned. Now that was the touch of someone determined to arouse her. “That’s the mark you begged for last night.”

  How could someone look so innocent and so evil at the same time? It seemed Glory hadn’t cornered the market on that particular look after all. “That’s it? That’s the bite?” He nodded. “Fine. How long until it fades?” There was no way she was going to be able to go through her day with that on her neck. What if someone touched her there while she was doing a tattoo? A simple pat on the shoulder from a guy with big hands could cause an accidental orgasm.

  He smirked. “Who said it would?”

  She turned in his arms and glared at him.

  Julian looked utterly pleased with himself as he stroked a finger across the mark. “This tells anyone who looks at you that you’re claimed. You belong to me.” He must have realized his mistake almost immediately, because he dodged out of punching range, his expression turning wary. “Now, Cyn—”

  “I belong to you?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Since when?”