by Star, Amy
Blake gave her an uneasy look. It wasn’t like he couldn’t empathize with her. She was cool as ice when it came to her job, and that meant she was always prepared for the unexpected, and even if she came up against something that was bigger than herself, something dangerous—well, she adapted. That was who she was, on a fundamental level. But how could anyone cope with the sheer amount of circumstances that had fallen in her lap?
And she’s pregnant—with my child, he remembered. That news still lingered in his mind, but somehow it wasn’t as distracting. He looked at Lily again as she gritted her jaw and continued to drive forward, pressing down the gas until the pedal touched the floor. Hard-boiled, sure. But also, soon, a mother.
Blake had never really wondered about fatherhood, or taken the time to consider it being something for him. In part, it was because he’d never met a woman—shifter or human—who he could see himself being with like that. It was all a sort of fantasy. But now, here he was with the feisty Asian reporter on the run from his own people. And she didn’t freeze in the face of danger. He remembered how she had taken his cue and dove into the Jeep, and then hit the second shifter with the door to distract him long enough for Blake to get a shot off. They made a good team, he decided—whatever that was worth.
“Up ahead,” he said softly. They’d been driving for several minutes in silence and he knew she needed the time to sort through things in her head. “My bike is there. We can take that from here. Cover this car with branches, come back for it later.”
“We’re not suspicious on a bike?” she asked with a taunting tone.
“I think we’re suspicious wherever we go,” he said, “but a bike is a bit more inconspicuous than this big thing. Not that I don’t approve. You drive this thing like you were born in the front seat.”
Lily grinned as they pulled over on the flat logging landing and parked the car on the lee side of a stack of abandoned logs that had been forgotten. Moss was already eating its way over them, and it made a perfect cover. It took less than five minutes for them to cover the old Camry with cedar boughs, and Lily wiped her hands on her pant legs and followed Blake to where his bike was parked. She blushed for a moment when he unexpectedly started shedding his clothes again and suddenly stood naked in front of her. She couldn’t help admiring the sheer girth of his manhood, bedded below that swarthy patch of tangled black pubic hair. He gave her a teasing flick with his finger as he pulled on his old clothes and clapped both shoulders of his leather jacket.
“That looks more like I remember you,” she had to admit and swung a leg over the back of the bike, straddling the seat and back of Blake. She had never ridden a motorcycle before, and she felt another pang of helplessness as she gave a final look at the camouflaged Camry. “Where are we going to go?”
Blake kicked the bike into gear and they slowly rumbled back along the road from whence they’d come. He spoke over his shoulder as she wrapped her arms around his torso to keep from falling off. “First, we need to get you out of here,” he said. “I still have some friends in Beaver Creek. I’ll get one of them to drive you back to the city—this is too dangerous a place for you right now, Lily.”
She squeezed tighter and pointed to the side of the road angrily. Not quite understanding, Blake did as he was told and she jumped off the bike and gave him an incredulous look. “So that’s it? You just get rid of me?! After all this?”
Blake frowned. “Lily, I’m not trying to get rid of you—I’m trying to protect you. You don’t understand the shifters like I do. And especially not Connor and Melissa. They were willing to kill one of our own just to frame me for a murder I didn’t commit. I can’t let you get any more involved than you already are,” he said desperately. “If they find out about you…”
“They already have,” she said, her eyes gleaming with anger. “Those other shifters from the Jeep saw both of us—when they report back, if Connor is as smart as you think he is, he’ll figure out I’m connected to you somehow. You think I’ll be safer in the city? At least when I’m with you there’s a chance for me to come out of this alive.”
Blake frowned again. He hadn’t considered that. Ever since Lily had told him she was pregnant, his thoughts had unconsciously aligned with the notion of trying to get her as far away from the impending civil war as possible. But she had been thinking—was thinking—more clearly than him now. She had already been seen. If Connor really wants to hurt me, he’ll see Lily as a pressure point, he thought and leaned over the handle bars.
“This is all my fault,” he lamented. “I’m so sorry, Lily.”
She dropped her shoulders and walked toward him, her slight hips bobbing out above the brim of her cargo pants and stood in front of him, her face inches from his. He could still smell himself from last night on her lips, and an urge to kiss her consumed him.
“I got myself into this,” she said. “You just happened to be along for the ride. But whatever the case, there’s no point in laying blame. That’ll just get us killed, like you said. So, I’m in—I’m staying with you. The question is how we figure this out… together.”
He nodded and stroked her cheek until she fell into his arms again. “All right,” he said, still feeling a pang of regret. “Together it is. I don’t know how we’re going to get out of this, but if you’re not going to run away like I wish you would—then the next step, I guess, is trying to clear my name.”
“Good plan!” Lily said optimistically, and hopped back onto the back of his bike.
He revved the bike again and took off. Having Lily along was, in a way, a comfort. If anyone could help him find the evidence to clear his name, it would have to a beat reporter with a reckless work ethic. He grinned, and for just a moment allowed himself to wonder what it would be like to raise a child with her.
It was likely that Beaver Creek would be swarming with Ursas and police alike, so Blake turned off the main road and headed down an old dirt bike path that had been used enough that the Harley made it through with only a few bumps on the fender along the way. The trail forked several times, and he tried to track his memory to remember which one led down to the old gravel pit. He was relieved at last to see the grey and pale pyramids of loose rock and brought the bike to a stall again.
Reaching in his coat he gulped and took out his cellphone.
“Call a friend?” Lily asked, stretching her legs.
“Let’s hope so,” he said, checking his messages. He was a little astonished to see that there were over fifty messages left on his inbox—in fact, it had filled up his memory. Almost all of them were from Jimmy. The text messages were hard to decipher—the mechanic seemed to have put his own stream of consciousness into digital format.
Something about the Ursas having new allies. A new gang in town. A formal declaration of accusation. Nothing I don’t already know, Blake thought to himself and scrolled up. The last two were from Gavin’s phone, and Blake quickly texted him something simple. There was a chance that they’d gotten to Gavin already, in which case his phone might be bugged. Blake entered something quickly: “Beers at the old stomping grounds?” and clicked Send. Now it was a matter of waiting.
Lily was still stretching. She seemed nervous, agitated, unable to sit still.
“I have to apologize,” he said with a serious tone.
She turned, her face questioning. She had put her glasses back on, but the piece that led behind her left ear was slightly bent. “I thought we agreed, no one’s to blame for anything. Let’s leave it at that,” she offered in a mature voice.
“No, I mean…” He winked. “I normally try to cook breakfast the next morning when I find a gorgeous woman lying in bed beside me. Seems we had to skip that ritual today, so I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t take you for the cooking type.” She put her hands on her hips again.
“I can manage eggs.” Blake shrugged and leaned against the bike, crossing his own arms.
“Well, rain check, then?”
“Rain check,”
he confirmed.
A few minutes later, both of them startled at the approaching sound of an engine. Even before it came into view, Lily had taken up position behind another gravel pile out of sight. Blake wasn’t sure if he could trust her with it, but he’d given her the shotgun and tucked the other man’s sidearm into the back of his pants. The sound of the engine was unmistakable—loud and heavy on the pistons, it was a Harley, but there was no way to tell whose.
Blake visibly relaxed when Gavin cruised down the battered logging road and peeled out at the bottom of the gravel pit and idled closer. The kid had on a black bandana that covered his stock of yellow hair and the bruises on his face had healed a bit but still left enough of their sheen to give him a demented look. He frowned as he approached, and then Blake saw that, like the other shifter, his young protégé was sporting a shotgun.
Blake tensed.
“You aim to shoot me, Gav?” he asked hesitantly, unable to read the younger man.
Gavin looked from side to side suspicious and took another step, raising the barrel of the shotgun an inch, but still not pointing it at the former Beta. “That mightily depends on you, doesn’t it?”
“Guess you’d better tell me what I’m up against then.”
Gavin sneered and came forward, raising the muzzle of the shot gun and pressing it against Blake’s chest. There was a weird, adult look in the younger man’s eyes, something that Blake had first seen back at Damian’s funeral—the way death makes a man grow up, not slow but quick like wild fire. He still couldn’t read his expression.
“I want to hear you say it, Blake,” Gavin said.
Blake gulped. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lily standing in the shadow of the gravel pit. She handled the shotgun like a pro and it was butted up tight against her shoulder. At that distance it would be hard for her to miss, but even harder not to miss both of them. Still, it was something.
“What do you want me to say, Gavin?”
“You know what.”
“Enlighten me.”
“Tell me you didn’t kill Ogre. Tell me you didn’t kill Tanis,” he said, and the barrel of the shotgun pressed harder against Blake’s chest. The younger shifter’s finger was strained on the trigger, and his eyes were dead set, like they belonged to someone else. “Say it, so I know. Otherwise…”
“Otherwise you’re gonna aerate me? That it?”
“Say it!” Gavin said, thrusting his gun forward.
All of a sudden Lily burst out of the shadows, walking forward with the shotgun trained on Gavin. If Gavin had developed a killer resolution, then it was Lily who was now exemplifying it. There wasn’t a trace of fear or hesitancy in her face. Gavin picked her up immediately and made to swivel this gun in her direction, but Blake was faster.
He reached out with his left hand, grabbing the barrel of Gavin’s shotgun and holding it firm against his own chest as he reached into the back of his jeans and pulled out the other pilfered handgun, locking it firmly against Gavin’s temple.
All three of them froze in a deadlock.
“Ow,” Gavin murmured.
“Sorry,” Blake offered, and pulled back on the hammer.
“You know you off me, even at your most fortunate outcome, the chances are I’ll put a hole clean through you, too, right?”
“So it would seem,” Blake said, “but you started pointing guns first.”
“You look like you had that eventuality covered… from both angles,” Gavin said.
“Should I shoot him?” Lily asked, staring down the sight.
“Not yet,” Blake said. His hand was still wrapped tight around the barrel of the shotgun.
“And uh, who’s she, exactly?”
“Friend,” Blake said simply. “Now, should we talk?”
Gavin looked back at Blake and then at Lily. He was outgunned, and even with Blake dead to rights, there was an inextricable certainty in the couple’s demeanor that put him on edge. Like death was really just an inconvenience at this point. Reluctantly, Gavin took his finger off the trigger and raised his other hand, dropping the shotgun.
Blake slowly lowered his own gun, and motioned for Lily to do the same.
“I didn’t kill Ogre,” Blake said, and then his face became pained, “but I was responsible for Tanis. I went back to the site of Ogre’s death, hoping to find clues that would lead me to his murderer. I found another bear.”
“Tanis,” Gavin said unhappily.
“He tried to attack… Lily,” he indicated his black-haired lover who held her shotgun to the ground but was still watching Gavin with incredulity and pitiless suspicion. “I tried to stop him. He went wild with the hunt-lust. I did my best to try to discourage him.” Blake pulled down the sleeve of his leather jacket and black T-shirt to indicate the dark stains on the bandages underneath. “But he was too far gone. He told me, before he died, that Connor had told him… to kill Ogre.”
Gavin’s eyes inflamed and he spit on the ground and turned his back, enraged. Lily and Blake shared a disconcerted look. The young shifter swore again and leaned with both hands against his bike before sliding his own shotgun into a leather carrying case on the side of the bike.
“We suspected that Connor was behind it, now we know,” Blake said, rubbing his bald head.
“Son of a bitch!” Gavin slapped his bike’s seat and marched toward Blake again. “I shouldn’t have doubted you, I’m sorry.”
“You had to be sure,” Blake said understandingly. “I need to know what’s going on. Jimmy sent me a bunch of texts but none of it made any sense. What have I missed?”
Gavin looked back at Lily, who seemed a bit more relaxed now that the shifter wasn’t carrying a weapon.
“Something weird,” Gavin said. “Connor has more or less taken control of the Ursas. It was easy once he had the support of the cops, and with both Ogre gone—and Tanis’ body was found late last night—and you disappeared, it seemed pretty obvious. They have several search parties out looking for you.”
“We ran into one already,” Lily said.
“It’s worse than that now,” Gavin said. “Connor made a summons to two of the other shifter gangs, the Blue Devils and the Eaters of the Dead.”
“Nice names,” Lily smirked.
“Both of those gangs have had trouble in the past,” Blake considered, “but it was Damian who managed to broker a peace between them. Why would Connor summon them to Beaver Creek?”
Gavin shrugged. “I don’t know, like you told me to do, I’ve been keeping a low profile,” he said, “but from what I gather, he’s trying to formalize an alliance. Right now, there’s a cease-fire, a truce, but it’s an unsteady one—hell, we’ve been in a state of off-again-on-again war with both tribes for decades. Damian, god bless his soul, was the first one to actually get the bastards to sit down and talk.”
“Which means Connor must have something he’s willing to offer them, then,” Blake considered.
All three of them stared mutely at one another.
Blake turned and walked away from the others for a moment and took out his handgun again, turning it over in his hands fondly as he examined it like it were some sort of freshly dug artifact and he were imagining the culture that had spawned it. Lily didn’t like the look in his eye and ran forward, grabbing his arm. He turned and smiled before cupping her cheek.
“Did you look into what I told you as well?” he asked Gavin.
“I… I did,” Gavin replied. “I don’t know what made you think of it, but… well, it’s a flimsy bit of evidence at best. But it might be enough. I didn’t know what to do with it, so I gave everything I had to Jimmy. No one would suspect him of anything.”
“What are you talking about?” Lily demanded.
Blake flinched and dropped the clip out of the SIG before checking the cartridges and reloading it with a slap from the butt of his palm. “Before I went to investigate Ogre, I hatched a plan with Gavin, something that would act as a contingent in case something like this happe
ned. Something that’s been bothering me for a long while,” he eyed Gavin who gave a solemn nod, “that our Alpha—Damian—didn’t die of natural causes, but was, in fact, murdered.”
Lily’s eyes lit up, that old reporter verve for a story coming to the surface. “If you’re not going to say it, I will,” she said. “From what you’ve told me about Connor—his son—it sounds like he’s been aching for a chance at the leadership. And we’ve seen how he’s willing to go to disenfranchise your position. Is it really a leap to think he wouldn’t sink as low as, oh, I don’t know, patricide?”
Even if both Gavin and Blake had been unconsciously thinking the same thing, to have the theory actually spelled out loud for them somehow made it permanent, gave it a substance that hadn’t existed before. It wasn’t something that could be unsaid.
“When I started looking into Damian’s death, beyond what the coroner had done, there were a few things that didn’t line up,” Gavin interrupted, “including the fact that his own bike was parked several meters away from where he got caught by a sweeper in the creek. If he had been murdered, it would have been higher up the creek where he fell in, so I did some sleuthing, and on the bridge… I found evidence of scraped paint, the same color as Damian’s bike. Someone had rammed into him. I also found blood, but who knows whose… I gave it all to Jimmy.”
“That seems pretty damning, from my point of view,” Lily offered, “and a jury would probably think so too.”
“We ain’t got juries in Beaver Creek,” Gavin said coldly, his teeth flashing, and Lily baulked.
“Is that all?” Blake asked.
“No,” Gavin brought his attention back to his elder. “I, uh, managed to get the autopsy file from the city. Don’t ask how. Let’s just say, our little secret as shifters may have been compromised—at least according to one scared-as-shit surgeon who may or may not have been threatened by a bear-cum-human. Anyway, I got the entire file, and it had pictures.”
“At Jimmy’s as well?”
“Aye, but something was odd,” Gavin said. “There were bruises on his hands as well, all over his palms. Odd shapes. According to the surgeon who did the autopsy, she racked it up to the fact that he had been struggling while swimming and banged his hands on rocks and sticks trying to get to shore.”
