“He told me about his mate,” Lissa said. “Angie. The one who was killed by shifter hunters.”
Flynn looked surprised. “He did? Huh. Did he tell you what happened afterwards?”
“Just that he left their house, left everything behind and never went back.”
Flynn nodded. “What he didn’t tell you was he joined a group of shifters who hunt the hunters. He stayed with them for about a year. I don’t know how many kills he registered, but there shouldn’t have been any at all.”
“Why not?” Lissa said. “They were horrible people. They killed his wife for no reason.” She didn’t feel at all sorry they’d been killed.
Flynn gave her a flat look. “No argument there. Somebody like me, I don’t give a fuck. Killing them’s not going to wreck my soul. But Tank…” He shook his head. “He’s a Protector bear. It’s in his DNA. He left his clan group, so he never took up the role officially, but Protectors only fight and kill when they’re defending their people. They’re not killers by nature. It does something to them.”
He added, “And even then, they couldn’t kill the good in him. You know how Grant’s shifter hunters finally got him?”
She shook her head.
“They set him up. A girl in the wilderness, said her sister was in trouble, caught by the hunters. Led him right into a trap, because he couldn’t fucking stop himself from helping someone he thought needed help.”
Anger burned through Lissa, that someone had used the essential goodness in Tank to betray him.
“That’s why I was glad when he decided to help you, even though the last thing we needed was another problem shifter,” he said. “I think it’s good for him to have you here, but it’s hard on him, too. Try to cut him some slack, okay?”
Lissa nodded.
“Come on,” Flynn said. “I’ll walk you to the tiny house.”
They went around the side of the cabin to the little house. It was dark, and without Tank, it felt lonely.
“You got everything you need?” Flynn asked as she climbed the steps. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be walking back and forth between here and the house right now. Once you’re inside, stay in.”
Lissa bit her lips. Did he mean Tank might attack her? Or Xander, or one of the others? The woods suddenly looked dark and full of threats.
She shook her head. “I’m okay. Thanks.”
He nodded, and walked silently off into the shadows.
Chapter 20
Lissa let herself into the tiny house and locked the door, even though she knew Tank—or probably any of them—could tear this place apart if they wanted to.
It was a chilling thought. For a few minutes tonight, sitting around the fire, things had felt so right here, even with Tank keeping his distance.
And then there was blood and anger and the broken shards of people’s lives, reaching out to tear new wounds in all of them.
She turned on the lights, trying to recapture her delight in the place, but all she could see was Tank’s bear face, contorted in pain and fury. She hoped he would be all right, that he would come back and be his sweet, funny, caring self. Not a bloodthirsty grizzly.
It’s not like you’re any better, a voice said inside her mind. Your bear is a killer, too.
She shivered. When her bear finally came out, would that be her one day? Battling the others in the crew to try to forget all the things she’d seen and done?
Lissa brushed her teeth and put on the t-shirt that Tank had given her to sleep in. It came down to her knees, but it smelled faintly like him, which was comforting. She climbed up into the loft and snuggled in under the covers. Through the skylight, she could see the Great Bear wheeling through the sky, and she fell asleep watching it.
Sometime in the middle of the night, Lissa woke with a sudden start. Something was different—she could sense it. Something important.
She tiptoed down the steps and stood in the center of the tiny house, listening.
She could hear something at the front—a soft, snuffling sound. She moved as silently as she could to the front window, moving the curtain just enough to see out.
Curled up at the foot of the front steps was a giant grizzly bear. He was asleep, snuffling softly every now and then, as if he were dreaming.
Protecting her. Keeping her safe.
She watched him for a long time. He moved restlessly, emitting little growls. Not as if he were angry, but…
As if he were in pain.
The idea hurt her, somewhere inside that was beyond thought, that acted on pure instinct.
Moving softly, she unlocked the door and stepped outside.
The night was cold, frost touching the grass. Everything in the compound was still. Lissa shivered in her night clothes, but she could feel the warmth of the huge bear a few feet away, like a great furry furnace.
He whimpered in his sleep.
Slowly, slowly, Lissa crept over and sat down on the steps. He had his back to her, his huge bulk right up against the stairs, looming over her. His fur looked soft.
She reached out and put her hand against his back. The whimpering stopped.
His fur was coarse on top and soft underneath. She moved her hand, petting him softly, like he was a fragile hummingbird instead of a deadly brawler. The snuffling quieted, and she felt his big body relax.
Somewhere inside her, a small rational part of her said this was crazy. But she couldn’t help herself—she felt pulled to the bear by a force she couldn’t understand or deny. She leaned against him, inhaling his earthy scent, reveling in his warmth and strength.
The Protector. Too scared to be close to her, too broken. But he still couldn’t help himself. He’d come here to make sure she was safe, that no one could get in her den and harm her.
She sat there for a long time, trying to sense what he needed from her. He’d shown her his true self, wild and sweet and terrified and strong.
She couldn’t show him her bear, but she could share something with him.
“I’m sorry I upset you tonight,” she said into the night. “I was—I was—” This was harder than she thought it would be. She talked a lot, but she never revealed her vulnerability. That was death on the street, and it had become so ingrained in her that her “I’m okay” armor had become a part of her.
But for some reason, things were different with Tank. She’d known him such a short time, but she already knew that. He wasn’t some temporary boyfriend who was interchangeable with all her other boyfriends—the least crazy in a world of crazies.
He was the first one who made her want more. He might not be able to give it to her, but he never would if she didn’t let him in. Maybe now would be a good time to practice—when he was asleep and couldn’t hear her.
Maybe on some level he’d feel it.
“I was scared, and I was hurt,” she said finally, in a low whisper. “What we did in the shower felt like more than just sex. I felt—for the first time in maybe ever, I felt like someone really cared about me. That you saw me for who I was, and you liked that.”
Lissa paused, trying to push words past her uncomfortable feelings. It was so hard to open up, even when she was basically talking to herself. “Then you got distant, and wouldn’t talk to me, and I felt so alone. Ashamed, and stupid, like I should have seen that you didn’t really want to be with me like that.”
She took a deep breath. “I see now that I was pushing you, and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. This is all new and scary for me, and I needed…I don’t know. I needed to feel like I mattered—me, Lissa. Not Lissa the problem bear.” That was part of it, but not all of it. “I needed you,” she whispered. “And I know you don’t need me the same way, and that scares the hell out of me.”
She was petting the bear as she talked, loving the feel of his warm fur. Suddenly the fur rippled under her hand. She sat back, startled, hearing the cracking of bones, and then Tank sat in front of her, his back to her and his knees drawn up to his chest, as if he
were trying to disappear.
“Tank?” she whispered. She reached out and touched his broad, muscular back, as warm as the bear. He’d been listening to her after all. How much had he heard?
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, not raising his head. “I almost hurt you. I came so close to clawing you when I Changed. You could have been killed, and I couldn’t stop myself in time.”
Lissa inched forward and laid her head on his back, her hand on his shoulder. “You didn’t, though,” she said. “You didn’t hurt me. And then you came back to protect me.”
He nodded. After a long silence, he said, “I’m sorry I made you feel ashamed. It’s not that I don’t like you. It’s just…liking you brings up all these other feelings and thoughts and memories, and I thought I could handle it all but I can’t. You get my bear upset, but he can’t stay away from you either. I just want to feel…” He shook his head, forehead still on his knees. “I don’t even know.”
He wanted to feel safe, and normal, and strong, and brave.
Lissa stroked his back. “Come inside,” she said. “Come inside and sleep next to me. I need you to make me feel safe.”
She couldn’t believe she was asking an out-of-control grizzly shifter to sleep next to her, but somehow it felt right.
He took a few deep breaths, and then he nodded. “Okay.”
She rose to her feet, and Tank got up too, looking unutterably weary. As Lissa turned to go into the house, she caught a glimpse of a white shape rising from the shadows at the edge of the forest.
A white leopard. Sloan. He’d been out here too, watching, making sure she and Tank were both okay, ready to step in if something went wrong.
He gazed at her for a moment, his eyes shining in the dark. Then he dipped his head once, as if in approval, before ghosting off into the night.
Lissa led Tank back into the tiny house and climbed up into the loft. She slid under the covers and waited, and after a moment’s hesitation Tank slid in behind her. He wrapped both arms around her, cuddling her against his chest, and let out a long sigh.
Warmth spread through her, and she fell asleep surrounded by the scent of fur and sunlit forest.
Chapter 21
The next morning when Lissa woke up, Tank was gone, but the bed next to her was still warm and his scent clung to it.
She didn’t know what to make of that, or what to do. She and Tank had bared their souls, but she didn’t know how he’d feel about it his morning. She gathered up her clothes and walked across to the cabin, slipping in the back door near Tank’s room. She kind of hoped he wouldn’t finish hooking up the tiny house shower—then she wouldn’t have an excuse to use the fabulous billionaire bathroom any more.
She’d barely made it to the bathroom door when suddenly he was there in front of her, filling the hallway, blocking her way with one hand against the wall.
“Hey,” he said softly.
“Hey.” She didn’t know what to say to him. Was he going to pretend nothing had happened, like before?
He was looking down at her, his face scruffy and tired-looking, those gorgeous green eyes soft and concerned. “Say something,” he said.
She looked up at him. Flynn had said not to give him too hard a time, but she couldn’t keep worrying about everything she said being wrong.
“I’m afraid you’re going to get mad again. Or stop talking to me.”
He bit his lip, looking lost and unhappy. “I won’t.” He sighed, and amended it to, “I’ll try not to.”
At least he was being honest.
“Okay,” she said. “When stuff happens between us, good or bad, I can’t pretend like it never did. And I hate walking on eggshells around a guy, trying to figure out if they’re going to explode or not. I did enough of that with my stepfather, and I saw my mother doing it too—looking to him all the time for clues about how she was supposed to be, no matter how she felt or what she needed.”
His eyes were worried, then ashamed. “I didn’t mean to do that,” he said.
“I know,” she said. “But you did. I get you’re going through stuff,” she added. “But either we go through it together—as friends, or…something else—or I don’t think I can stay here.”
He looked down at her, then reached out slowly and touched her cheek. “I don’t want you to go,” he said. “Thinking about it scares me. It scares my bear.”
Relief flooded through her. Despite her words, she didn’t want to go. And her bear didn’t either. “Then what?” she asked.
Tank stroked her cheek with his fingertips, very gently. “I don’t know what this can be,” he said. “I think…I want to be more than friends. But I don’t know how. Angie was my true mate. I don’t—I don’t know what this is.” He trailed his fingers down her neck. “Can we just take it slow?”
She nodded. When he looked at her like this, when he touched her like this, she’d agree to anything, just to keep him close.
She said, “Does that mean I have to take a shower by myself?”
His eyes grew smoky, and his breathing quickened. His gaze dropped to her breasts, and they flooded with heat, her nipples contracting.
He took deep breath, his chest expanding, and then blew it out noisily. “I think probably you’d better. But come out to the kitchen after. Flynn’s making pancakes.”
He dropped a quick kiss on the top of her head, and then walked away, turning once to look back at her. She watched his tight, muscular ass in his low-slung jeans, and sighed.
Take it slow.
For the next few days, that’s exactly what they did. They both stuck around the compound—Flynn had decreed that he wanted them there until he was sure their bears had settled enough to be safe out in public.
Tank spent the time working with the crew upgrading the others’ shelters, making sure everything was snug for the winter. It was getting near Thanksgiving, and the weather had turned cold for real. Lissa helped where she could, though her construction skills were minimal. Tank seemed to like having her near him, though, and he taught her some of the basics. He was a good teacher, giving clear instructions and explanations, and patient with questions and mistakes.
He also finished the tiny house, sealing the deck and getting the plumbing all hooked up, although Lissa still used the billionaire bathroom at every opportunity. Every time she entered her little jewel of a tiny house, though, she was filled with gratitude that she wasn’t living all alone in her cold, dark squat anymore, hungry and desperate.
Tank had given her so much more than he could possibly understand.
But taking it slow was sometimes torture. Tank was affectionate and attentive—even bordering on clingy. He was always touching her—a brush of shoulders, a hand at her waist, fingers brushing back her hair. At night they’d talk or read or watch TV in the living room of the cabin, or in her tiny house loft, and he always wanted her snuggled up close to him, sharing a bowl of popcorn or a tub of ice cream.
It was nice—nicer than any relationship she’d ever had—but Lissa wanted more. Being so close to him, feeling those hard muscles and breathing his scent, remembering the feel of his hands and the taste of his skin, him filling her with his hardness, made her feel like she was wet all the time.
She knew Tank thought about it too. Sometimes he’d look at her with that dark, smoky gaze, and it sent shivers right down between her legs. Other times she could see his boner filling his jeans, pressing up against the zipper, and she knew he wanted her too.
But he always let the moment slip by, and despite what she’d said to him in the hallway, she was scared to push it further.
Flynn also rescinded Rule Six, refusing to let Lissa try to Change until they could figure out what kind of magic Brother Damien had put into her. Flynn had put a call in to someone he knew—the man who’d given him his blue alpha magic—but he was on tour in Europe with his wife, country singer Ashley Silver, and he wouldn’t be back until after Thanksgiving.
Everything in her life seemed to be on h
old.
She was just starting to go stir-crazy, when on the fifth day Tank came bounding into the tiny house while she was running a load of wash with her few clothes in it.
“Get your city duds ready, little lady,” he said, in a pitiful rendition of a cowboy twang. “Flynn says we can go shopping today.”
Lissa’s eyes went wide. “Really?” As much as she loved her itty bitty house, she wasn’t used to being tied to the same tiny circle of land. Even in the cult, there was the big house, plus fields and barns and gardens and apiaries. It wasn’t quite so…claustrophobic.
“Yep.” Tank grinned at her, his smile melting her heart as usual. He had on a nice pair of jeans—not his construction clothes—and a gray knit shirt that clung to his chest in a way that made her want to run her hands over it. “We’re going to get you some clothes, and boots, and a winter jacket, and…”
“Whoa,” Lissa said. “Not too much.”
“Just what you need,” Tank said. “I have the list here.” He tapped the pocket of his shirt, where Lissa could see a corner of yellow paper sticking out. She eyed it suspiciously. That pocket looked really thick, like there was more than one page of paper folded up in there.
She’d have to keep an eye on him. She didn’t want to be too beholden to anyone. It always came back to bite you in the end.
Tank was feeling way too good at the thought of spending the afternoon shopping with Lissa, buying her everything she needed and lots more she didn’t. Even Flynn’s last-minute admonitions barely dampened his spirits.
“If any growling starts, come home. Red glowy eyes, ditto. Raging desires to attack some kid flipping burgers and take over his grill, come home. And take these.”
He handed each of them a small hinged box. Tank knew what it was, but Lissa opened hers to look. Inside were two needle-sharp darts.
“Tranquilizer darts,” Flynn said. “One is enough to take either one of you down, but better to have spares.” He looked from one of them to the other. “No fucking around,” he said. “If something starts to go sideways, just jam the dart into whoever is losing it and pretend they passed out.”
Bad Blood Bear (Bad Blood Shifters Book 1) Page 12
