She threw on a black hoodie over her t-shirt, then packed all of her clothes back in her duffel bag to bring in case she wouldn’t be coming back. If they could help Craig get out from under his debt, she supposed there wouldn’t be any reason to come back.
The thought of being back in New York, of staying there surrounded by concrete and people – for some reason it sent pangs of sadness through her. She had always considered herself a city girl, someone that was used to the luxuries that could only be found in a major metropolis. Somehow, in just one afternoon Rick had made her rethink this.
And Rick. Her feelings of attraction for him were still there, and still strong, but everything was so confused now. He wasn’t even human was he? Now that the initial shock had worn off Laura was dying to know more about him, about what he was.
She thought back to when he had come charging in last night, all fury and strength. The ease he displayed at handling those two thugs was terrifying, but also sexy. Picturing him holding that man off the floor by his neck, one handed… And that was after he had been shot twice! Laura couldn’t deny her feelings for him, but those feelings were now tinged with unease.
She just didn’t know what to think anymore.
She heard Rick’s truck pull up to the cabin, the engine growling irritably. Picking up her duffel bag, she looked around Joyce’s place one last time when her eyes fell on the gun.
The gun. The man hadn’t had time to pick it up before he was being thrown off the front step. It sat there, cold and black, and Laura picked it up and put it in her duffel bag. She sure as hell couldn’t leave it here for Joyce to find when she visited next.
She locked the front door as she left, deciding to keep the key for now. She could always find a way to get it back to Joyce and she didn’t want to waste even the time it would take to replace it in the faux birdhouse.
Rick’s truck was an old fashioned red Ford pickup. Despite its age it looked well cared for, clean and shiny. Or at least as shiny as a truck that old could be.
Laura saw Rick watch her as she approached the truck, his eyes going to her bag. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she saw some sadness when he first glanced at it.
She threw her duffel bag in the back before climbing into the passenger seat. “Are you sure you’re really okay?” she asked.
He nodded and lifted up his shirt, displaying his muscled abs and a pink mass of scar tissue. “I’ll be fine.” It looked like he had been shot weeks ago, rather than hours.
Rick pulled the truck out and started off towards the freeway. The silence hung in the air for a while as Laura tried to figure out how to talk about what had happened last night. How did you start that conversation?
“So…. You’re like a werebear?” she asked, deciding that starting this discussion was more important than waiting and trying to start it with grace or tact.
“I’m a shifter,” he replied. “A werebear is different.” He paused, as if thinking about how to explain. “Most shifters are just people who can turn into animals. We have all the reason and emotion that regular humans do, but that reason exists alongside the instincts of an animal.”
“So what makes a werebear different?” Laura asked, her curiosity beginning to take over.
“A werebear is a shifter whose animal instincts have somehow dominated their reasoning, human side. They almost always stay in their animal form. They pretty much just exist as unusually smart animals, although some haven’t gone all the way.”
The matter of fact way Rick spoke about this made Laura realize just how out of her depth she was. A few days ago she would have thought of shapeshifters as the domain of cheesy horror movies, not real life. On the other hand, the calm way Rick spoke about these things was reassuring. This was just the real world to some people, she supposed.
“Can you talk to animals?” she asked, remembering how Rick had seemed odd when he had told her not to worry about the wolves they had seen.
“Not really. Animals don’t talk so much as they just exist,” he said, smiling over at her. He appeared happy about how well she was taking all of this. “They communicate through things like posture and tone of growl. I guess I probably understand them better than most people, but we aren’t talking philosophy together.”
Laura chuckled. She had to give him credit, it must have been hard to show her that side of himself so soon. It must be hard to show that to anyone who grew up thinking that werewolves were just monsters in movies.
“So you knew those wolves across the river wouldn’t attack us yesterday?” she asked. Her mind was overflowing with questions, so much so that it was hard not to ask a new question before the first had been answered.
“Ahhhh, they weren’t wolves. They were shifters too.” Rick said this almost sheepishly, as if afraid to hit her with too much all at once. “There’s a wolf pack that lives in this area. I usually try to avoid them, and they haven’t bothered me since I’ve been here.”
This just kept getting deeper and deeper. “Jesus. Wolves, bears, could any animal I see be a shifter?” Laura asked.
“Yeah, that fly that’s been buzzing around in here since we left, he’s a shifter too,” Rick said, his tone nonchalant. “He wanted to come and help out.”
“No way,” Laura breathed, eyeing the fly as it slowly waddled along the dashboard.
Rick burst out in laughter, obviously not able to hold it in anymore.
“Rick!” Laura shouted, half angry and half laughing at herself. “I’m trying to wrap my head around all this, so stop messing with me!” She couldn’t keep her tone serious, and before she knew it she was laughing too.
“Listen, I know this is all new to you, but you’re handling it really well,” he said. “Except for that fly joke, you probably should’ve caught that one.” The grin on his face reached ear to ear.
“You never told me shifters are jerks,” Laura replied, feigning indignation.
“Shifters aren’t. It’s just me, city girl.” He put his hand on her knee and gave it a squeeze. “But seriously, any questions you’ve got, ask ‘em. This is gonna be a long drive.”
“Alright. What makes a person a shifter?”
“Most of us are born this way. But people can be turned.”
They had just reached the freeway, and Laura was pushed back in her seat as the truck accelerated. Rick was keeping his eyes on the road as he spoke now, with only occasional glances over at her.
“Turned? How does that work? Is it from a bite, like in the movies?” Laura’s mind raced. If it could be transferred, did that mean it was some kind of virus, or a disease?
“Yeah, a deep bite from a shifter will usually turn a person,” Rick said. “But turning someone against their will is very frowned upon by other shifters. We see it as something like rape.”
“Does that mean it’s passed on through some kind of virus?”
“Maybe,” he said. “To be honest I don’t really know. I don’t know if anyone’s ever studied it. You might want to be careful saying things like that to shifters though, most of us wouldn’t take kindly to the idea that who we are is just a disease.”
“Oh no, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that!” Laura said. She hadn’t thought about how it would sound to him at all. She wasn’t thinking her questions through well enough, each one bursting forth as soon as the one before it was answered.
Rick chuckled. “Don’t worry about it too much. You got thrown into my world pretty suddenly, so I understand the curiosity.”
Laura thought, trying to figure out where to steer the conversation next. “So I guess shifters can still be attracted to humans?” She was pretty sure she was blushing now, but hopefully Rick wouldn’t notice.
Rick didn’t answer for a while, so long that Laura almost thought he wasn’t going to respond to the question at all. “You’re my mate,” he said simply, eyes forward. His fingers were white from his death grip on the steering wheel. It was clear that he was terrified about what she would say to that
.
“Your mate?” Laura’s mind whirled. That sounded a lot like wife, which was way faster than she wanted things to be going right now. “I don’t get any say in that at all?”
“Not really,” he replied, eyes still forward, “but you don’t have to see me or stay with me if you don’t want to. With shifters, when we meet the right person we just know it. You’re my mate.” His voice trailed off towards the end. She could see how invested he was in what she said next.
“Wow, that’s a lot to take in,” she said, not knowing what else to say. How did you respond to something like that? Hearing that someone was essentially in love with you from the moment he met you?
Someone who was handsome, caring, and protective, she reminded herself. At least now she understood why Rick had been so willing to get involved with her problems. Any other guy would have noped out of there immediately on hearing what she was dealing with right now.
“You don’t have to give me any kind of answer right now,” Rick said, finally glancing over at her. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Okay,” she replied, briefly meeting his eyes as he looked over at her. The soft light there in the truck deepened the angles of his face.
Laura rested her head against the window, thinking about everything. She still had a thousand more questions, but now seemed like the right time to stop and think about what she had learned so far.
So she sat there and let her mind wander over the happenings of the last day and a half, eyes barely noticing the landscape pass by as the truck rocketed down the freeway. Soon she had dozed off, so she didn’t notice as Rick grabbed a blanket from the space behind their seats and gently placed it over her.
Laura awoke to the feeling of being pressed against her seatbelt as the truck slowed down. She must have dozed off, and was now covered by a warm wool blanket. She smiled over at Rick, once again reminded of how lucky she was to have met him.
He was pulling into a gas station, a large, slightly grimy looking one. The sun was up now, shining straight down at them from the horizon ahead.
Wiping the sleep from her eyes, she looked over at Rick. “How long was I sleeping?”
“Just a couple of hours,” he said. “I couldn’t let you miss breakfast though. This is the best part about road trips.”
“What is?” she asked, not fully awake yet and having trouble following what he meant.
“Gas station hot dogs,” was the only reply, followed by Rick winking over at her.
“So we’ve gone from fresh caught salmon to gas station hot dogs, huh?” she said, the laughter in her voice hopefully taking away any sting from the words.
“Yup, I know. Quite an upgrade, but you’re worth it,” he said as he brought the truck to a stop next to the pump.
They both got out, Rick gassing up the car as Laura walked up to the building, stretching her legs. Even though they had only been driving for a few hours, it was still a relief.
Rick met her there shortly, eyes traveling up and down her body as he approached. He seemed less apprehensive about being caught looking now that he had put all his cards on the table.
“This is the best time of day to be here, the dogs will be real fresh,” he said as he led her inside.
“You seem to be way into gas station hotdogs, like almost problematically so,” she said with a raised eyebrow, following him in. He just grinned at her.
It was the same roadside gas station that people on road trips always ended up frequenting. A wall of coolers with every kind of drink imaginable, a couple of aisles of snacks and treats, as well as a section of with toothpaste and toiletries. Laura felt like she had been in this exact place a hundred times before, just laid out ever so slightly differently. And in the front, right next to the cash registers, was the hot dog rack. Laura thought she heard Rick’s stomach growl as they approached it.
“I’ll take eight hotdogs please,” Rick said as he walked up to the counter.
“Eight hotdogs?” Laura said, laughing. “How many do you think I can eat?”
“Oh yeah, kinda forgot about you. Make that ten hotdogs.”
As the clerk started getting his order ready, Rick led her to the cooler. He grabbed two large bottles of water as he spoke quietly, eyes on Laura. “I can heal from a couple of bullet wounds pretty quick, but it takes a lot out of me. Us shifters always eat a ton after we get hurt.”
Laura nodded, taking the bottles as he passed them to her. “Makes sense, all that energy it takes to repair yourself has to come from somewhere. And at least that gives some kind of explanation for the ridiculous amount of food you just ordered.”
“We’ll just tell him we’ve got five kids in the back of the truck.”
They went back to the counter, Laura plopping the bottles on the counter as the clerk handed them two cardboard trays filled with hotdogs.
“Condiments are just over there,” he said, gesturing to a stand next to the counter.
Rick pulled out a battered leather wallet, but Laura stopped him, one hand on his arm. “Let me pay, you wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for me.”
He smiled down at her as he handed the clerk some bills. “Don’t worry about it, you can pay for our next cross country trip.”
They took the trays of hot dogs to the counter and put on their toppings. For Laura that meant just ketchup. Rick loaded his up with ketchup, mustard, relish, and sauerkraut until it looked like the hot dogs were just a way to carry the condiments.
“What?” he asked when he noticed her staring. “You don’t like sauerkraut?”
“I’m just not sure if there are actually any hot dogs under all that,” she replied with a laugh.
“There’d better be,” he said, leading her outside.
These light exchanges were all that was getting Laura through this trip. Any time her mind wasn’t focused on the strange new world she found herself in or a funny exchange with Rick, it focused solely on her brother. He would be fine, right? He had to be okay.
Rick led her to a bench in front of the gas station. They sat down, him looking at her softly. “He’s going to be alright. We’ll get there in time to help.”
“How do you always know what I’m thinking?” she asked, still amazed at having met him.
“Smell mostly,” he answered. “I have an animal’s senses, remember? People who are worried or sad smell different than people who are happy.”
“Well that takes some of the magic out of it,” Laura said, smiling at him.
They ate their breakfast quickly. The hot dogs were good, in that ‘not real but still delicious’ way that fast food usually is. Rick virtually inhaled his, finishing shortly after Laura. She wiped a bit of mustard off his face with a napkin, laughing silently.
“It’s not salmon, but it’ll have to do. Now let’s get back on the road,” he said. They tossed their trays in a trash can and got back in the truck, Laura carrying the water bottles.
They pulled out onto the freeway and drove towards the sun, towards her brother.
Chapter 8
The miles rolled past quietly for a time. Laura sat next to him, lost in her own thoughts, and Rick suspected it would be wise to give her some space. Despite his confident exterior, he really was worried that something bad had already happened to Craig. He had handled the two men last night easily, but they had been the type of guys who didn’t expect people to fight back. Men like that generally had a reason for that expectation from what he had seen, and that reason was usually their willingness to commit violence against others.
He suspected that if something bad happened to Craig Laura would never forgive herself. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t a fighter, her mind would go over a million things that she could have done differently, a thousand courses of action that would have resulted in Craig being okay.
So he kept his positive attitude and drove as fast as he dared. He would do everything he could to insure that she never had to deal with that kind of regret, even if it meant she could g
o back to her happy life in the city, away from him.
She had soon fallen asleep again. That was good, since this drive was going to be a long one and he suspected that she hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before. No surprise really, after being attacked and then having your whole idea of what’s real and what’s imaginary turned upside down. He wouldn’t have slept much either.
She was taking the revelations remarkably well, however. He supposed that her constant worry about her brother was keeping her from really dwelling on the fact that he wasn’t entirely human. That some people could turn into animals. That he had taken two bullets and been fine a few hours later.
Well, mostly fine anyways. His strength was returning after such a huge meal, but he still felt much weaker than normal, and probably would for the next few days. He hoped they could sort out Craig’s problems without fighting, but after last night that hope seemed naïve. He was still much stronger than a normal person, but if things got really rough he might have to change. He would really prefer not to do that in a city, however. Shifters who exposed their secret openly were usually treated as pariahs by the shifter world as a whole.
That was best avoided, even for someone like him who was currently living alone. He hoped to return to his crew in Canada one day, but if they found out that he had shifted in New York City they would hardly welcome him with open arms. Still, he would do what he had to, regardless of the consequences to himself.
His mind roamed as the miles rolled past, Laura’s soft breathing keeping him company. He put the wool blanket over her again. He was glad that his mate had turned out to be such a fantastic person. He had heard of bears meeting their mate, only to find out that they were stuck with a humorless harpy.
That was rare, as a shifters mate tended to match his or her personality fairly well, but exceptions had been known to happen. His brief time with Laura had reassured him that that wasn’t his fate, however. She was warm, and had a snappy sense of humor. She wasn’t quick to trust, but that was probably due caution for someone who lived in a big city.
The Bear's Embrace: Clanless: A Shifter Romance Series, Book 1 Page 6
