Simply Bears: A Ten Book Paranormal Bear Shifter Romance Collection

by Simply Shifters

  “Don’t hurt them.” She begged.

  “Never, darling.” He said. He reached a hand out and gently stroked her hair, his eyes still locked on hers.

  “Throw her in the truck.” He told his men without breaking her gaze.

  Two men grabbed her from behind and steered her towards the cage. They shoved her rudely inside and tossed an old dress in after her. Sierra pulled it over her head gratefully, suddenly aware of the chill in the night air.

  “I’m waiting, Joe.” Dorrian called out. “I do not like to be kept waiting.”

  By now, most of Sleuth had assembled around the cage, some in human and some in bear form, but no one daring to make a move as long as those guns remained pointed at the cage. Sierra picked Brenda’s sobbing mother out in the crowd.

  “Please give me back my baby.” She begged quietly as she leaned against her husband.

  Joe shifted. Pain, fury, and wounded pride were written all over his face. He stared desperately at Sierra as he walked towards them.

  He stood in front of Dorrian.

  “I told you to kneel.” Dorrian said.

  Joe gave a pained sigh. Grudgingly, he knelt down.

  “I agreed to your terms.” Joe said. “I accepted your leadership.”

  “I know.” Dorrian said.

  “Then, what is this?”

  “What I have here behind me is a little insurance policy.”

  He spoke loudly, addressing not just Joe, but all of Sleuth.

  “Your children will not be harmed. They will be well taken care of. They will be fed, clothed, and receive the finest education. I’ll even allow you to Skype with them once a month, so you know that I’ve kept my word. Just so long as you continue to accept my leadership and pay your taxes. The moment you don’t, your children will die.”

  “You don’t need to do this.” Joe pleaded.

  Dorrian smiled.

  “Yes, I do. How do you think it is that I have fifty-eight packs at my beck and call? A few hostages go a long way towards ensuring continued loyalty. Now, I don’t normally take adults, but since you don’t have any children, I’ll make do with Sierra here. And you have my word I won’t hurt her.”

  Joe’s eyes met hers. He looked lost, powerless.

  Dorrian held out his hand to shake Joe’s.

  “Thank you for your cooperation.”

  *

  It was the longest night of Sierra’s life.

  The truck bumped along in the dark for hours. The guards had tied a stained drop cloth down over the top of the cage, hiding all of them from questioning eyes. For a long time, this made it pitch black inside. With no moon, and no street lights out in the woods, they couldn’t see more than an inch in front of them. Eventually, when they reached the highway, the occasional streetlight or headlights illuminated the scared and tear stained faces of the children clutching each other inside. By that pale yellow light, Sierra saw fear and panic in their eyes and wished in vain there was something she could do.

  Sierra sat in one corner on the hard truck bed. The children had gravitated towards her, grateful for any grown up presence. She held a baby in her arms while another child sat in her lap. The girl in her lap had peed in her pants. Brenda was next to her, hugging her arm, and a small boy she didn’t know, leaned against her other side. They all cried continuously. They said they were cold. They were scared. They wanted their mommies. The baby in her arms just screamed and screamed until Sierra thought the sound would drive her mad.

  She did her best to reassure them, but the words rang hollow. Still, she continued to repeat them, like a mantra, willing them to be true.

  “It’s okay. You’re okay. It’s going to be alright. Everything will be alright.”

  There was no sense of time in that cold, dark cage. Only movement, as the truck sped along the night road, the roar of traffic ringing in their ears.

  After some time most of the children had gone to sleep. Sierra would doze off only for moments before snapping awake again. She was too aware of the danger they were in to fall asleep.

  She had a long time to think on that sleepless night. She thought about that hopeless look in Joe’s eyes as he had stared at her through the bars. Would she ever get back to him? Would they even see each other again?

  Now she understood why none of the other packs had wanted to help them. With a pang of sadness and recognition, she remembered the way Pearl had neatly dodged Joe’s inquires about the whereabouts of her grandchildren.

  None of them would fight. Not with their children at stake. The price was just too high. And now, with her and all the children of Sleuth in Dorrian’s clutches, Joe wouldn’t fight either. He couldn’t.

  She was never going to see him again.

  It was only with that realization that she allowed herself to cry.

  After some time, she became aware that it must be dawn. Slowly, the light inside the cage brightened. The morning light corresponded with a change in the movements of the truck. They were slowing now, moving off the highway, and following several turns before bumping off the paved road and slowing to a stop.

  Sierra heard the sounds of men getting out of the truck and the thud of their footsteps as they walked to the cage. One of them flipped up one side of the drop cloth. Sierra squinted at the sudden influx of light. Most of the children woke up, rubbing their eyes.

  They were somewhere in the desert. From her limited view, Sierra couldn’t see any buildings or other signs of civilization. Just sloping brown sand dunes dotted with cactus. Probably no use yelling for help.

  The two men were armed. One had his gun at the ready, pointing it directly at Sierra. The other was holding a grocery sack.

  “Any of you kids allergic to peanut butter?” he asked.

  Sierra blinked in surprise. No one answered him.

  “Hey!” he yelled, and banged the butt of his rifle against the cage with a clang for emphasis. “Peanut allergies? Any of you got ‘um?”

  Several of the kids shook their heads and a few managed a quiet “no”.

  “Alright then.” he said, and unlocked the door of the cage.

  Sierra had a split second to decide if she should try to escape. She pictured herself barreling into the guy with the bag. Maybe she could get his gun away in the confusion and take out the other one.

  The man with the gun pointed at her looked her dead in the eyes. That look said he knew exactly what she was thinking about doing, and he was not going to allow it to work. Defeated, Sierra dropped her gaze.

  Bag guy tossed in the grocery sack and shut the cage again. The kids tore into the sack. It was filled with peanut butter sandwiches and bottled water. There were bottles and formula at the bottom for the babies. The kids began to devour the sandwiches. Sierra set straight to feeding the baby girl in her arms. Once she had a bottle in her mouth she was finally, mercifully quiet.

  Bag guy lowered the drop cloth again, plunging them back into darkness. Sierra listened to the crunch of their footsteps as they moved back towards the cab.

  “Okay,” bag guy said to gun guy. “Call it.”

  “Tails,” gun guy said.

  There was the metallic ping of a coin being flipped. Bag guy cursed.

  “Damnit. I’m exhausted.” he said.

  “Too bad. You’ve got first watch.”

  There was a slight creak as bag guy leaned against the truck. Gun guy got into the cab, presumably to sleep. Then it was quiet.

  Eventually, Sierra slept herself, too exhausted to worry anymore. Most of the kids seemed to have adopted the same mind set. They weren’t talking any more, or crying. They were just still; waiting to see what happened next.

  As soon as it was nightfall, the truck started again. Another long, cold night. Another stop at sunrise in the middle of nowhere, this time surrounded by trees that reminded Sierra with a pang of home. Another bag of formula and peanut butter sandwiches.

  “Where are you taking us?” she asked, and received no response.

&n
bsp; But she already suspected where they were going.

  Two more nights of driving. Two more days of sleeping in the cage. Every muscle in Sierra’s back had cramped painfully from not being able to stand.

  And then on the fifth night, they arrived.

  The drop cloth was pulled back, and it was Dorrian’s smiling face that greeted them this time.

  “Welcome to New York.” He said.

  *

  The traveling cage had come to a stop in a sprawling hanger. The fluorescent lights glared off an impressive collection of sports cars and airplanes. The Leer jet painted with the Taylor Enterprises logo was parked next to a shiny red Ferrari 458 Spider. Motorcycles were lined up along one wall. Everything money could buy, with plenty of space left in the hanger for more.

  The children were separated, boys from girls, and led away by armed guards. Two young women arrived to take the babies.

  “Where are you taking them?” Sierra demanded.

  Dorrian waived away her question. He held out his hand cordially to help her out of the cage. Sierra ignored it and clambered out on her own. Her back screamed in pain mixed with relief, as she stood upright for the first time in five days. She was unable to hold back a groan.

  “Well, I’m certain you would like to freshen up after your travels.” Dorrian said.

  Sierra resisted the urge to hit him.

  “Jimmy will show you to your room.”

  So bag guy had a name. Wordlessly, he led her away across the hanger and through the door on the other side.

  From there, they went down a short hallway and into a gold and burgundy paneled elevator. The elevator even had that terrible canned jazz music. Jimmy flashed a security badge at the keypad and hit the button for the twelfth floor. They were on floor “H” for hanger. It would appear that this elevator would not go anywhere without a security badge.

  After an awkward and quiet ride up, the doors opened.

  They were in a hotel.

  At least that’s what it used to be.

  She was looking at a hotel hallway with plush, burgundy carpets and tasteful art on the walls. From the elevator, the hallway split in two directions with rows of rooms.

  There were girls milling about in the halls, talking and laughing with one another. None of them were her kids. They were all older, maybe high school age. Sierra had a notion that perhaps the floors were divided by gender and age group. The girls stared at her.

  There were two armed guards on the floor. Jimmy nodded to them as they passed.

  They finally stopped at room 1222.

  “This one’s yours.” Jimmy said, and held the door open.

  Sierra stepped inside. Jimmy shut the door behind her and walked away without another word. Sierra waited a moment, then tried the door.

  Locked.

  Dorrian had bought a hotel, and then modified it so the doors locked from the outside.

  So she will still in a cage, but at least she could stand up in this one.

  The room was elegantly appointed. The sizeable bathroom had a Jacuzzi tub. There were lush linens on the king sized bed. There was a sitting area with an overlarge flat screen television. Refrigerator, microwave, mini bar. What more could a girl want? Besides a door that opened.

  Sierra went immediately to inspect the windows. They did not open, as she suspected. They also seemed to be tinted, shielding her from view. No hope of grabbing the attention of the people down below on the city street.

  She paced the room, pondering her situation. There had to be a way out. She lay down on the big bed, trying to think.

  But oh my god, the bed. Sinking into the soft mattress, for a moment she didn’t care that she was in a cage or that she would never see Joe again. After being dragged from her bed in the middle of the night, fighting tooth and nail to escape, and five days cramped in that cage trying to comfort inconsolable children, that bed felt like the most wonderful thing in the world. She let herself melt into it, and she slept.

  She woke later to a timid knock on the door.

  “Miss Christie?” a girl’s voice asked from the other side of the door.

  Sierra sat up in bed as the door opened, and a petite girl who couldn’t have been older than eighteen, stepped into the room. She had light blonde hair and freckles that reminded her of Molly. She was bearing a massage table.

  “My name’s Gina. Mr. Taylor asked me to come work on your back,” she said shyly.

  Sierra stared, dumfounded at the massage table for a moment before finding her voice.

  “You can tell Mr. Taylor that I don’t need a damn thing from him.”

  Gina shifted her weight awkwardly.

  “Ummm…. You’re really turning down a massage? Seriously?” she asked.

  Put in those terms, it did seem foolish somehow. Gina took her silence as acceptance and unfolded the table.

  “Uh, Maybe you should take a bath while I set up?” Gina suggested.

  She did need a bath. She must smell like death. There didn’t seem to be a point in resisting at this juncture.

  She shut herself in the bathroom and peeled off the filthy dress. She sat on the vanity watching the room fog up with stream as the tub filled with hot water. The sleep and the hot bath cleared her head, washing away all the chaos of the last few weeks and making room for a plan. Any plan. She couldn’t just stay in this ivory tower with Dorrian the rest of her life. There had to be a way out.

  She stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped up in a towel. Gina had the table set up. There was soothing music playing and aromatherapy candles scattered around the room.

  “You can go ahead and lie down,” Gina said.

  Sierra stretched out on the table and Gina got to work. Her small hands deftly found every knot and pressed it into submission.

  “How long have you lived here?” Sierra asked her.

  Gina stiffened. She didn’t seem to be comfortable with conversation.

  “Since I was five.” she said.

  “And that’s when Dorrian kidnapped you?”

  “Well…yes.”

  Gina was quiet for a long time, focused on the tension in Sierra’s lower back.

  “He’s not that bad, you know.” she said finally. “He takes good care of us. I have friends here and nice clothes and books. He gives us whatever we want.”

  “But he took you from your parents.” Sierra protested. “Don’t you miss them?”

  Again, Gina took a long time to answer her. She’d moved on to her impossibly knotted shoulders.

  “I think I did at first. I still talk to them on Skype sometimes. But this is my home now. Dorrian takes very good care of us.”

  “You said that.” Sierra said. “But does Dorrian let you leave?”

  “Some kids have gone home. Now and again, they go home.”

  “How do you know they went home?”

  Gina didn’t answer. Sierra found herself thinking about the goldfish she had as a little girl. The one that her parents “sent to live with other goldfish” while she was at school. She had a sinking suspicion something similar happened to these kids who had “gone home.”

  “You’re a shifter, right?” Sierra asked her. “What are you?”

  “Me?” Gina seemed surprised by the question. “I’m a swan.”

  THE FINAL CHAPTER

  Sierra was pacing her room again, desperate for a plan, when the phone rang. She walked to the nightstand and tentatively picked it up.

  “Hello?” she answered.

  “Good evening, Miss Christie,’ A professional male spoke on the other end of the phone. “Mr. Taylor asks that you join him for dinner at seven. He’ll send an escort up for you. Formal attire is requested. You should find something suitable to wear in your closet.”

  Sierra hung up the phone and went to the closet. Sure enough, it was stocked with an array of beautiful designer clothes and shoes, all in her size. She wondered briefly if Dorrian’s assistants knew Joe’s assistants, and if there was some industry standard w
ay they were all capable of figuring out her dress size.

  She selected a slinky black silk Valentino dress and matching heels. The whole ensemble probably cost at least six grand. She wondered if this was all it took to make these kids so chock full of Stockholm Syndrome. Dorrian’s money no doubt bought a lot of good favor.

  There was a knock on her door promptly at seven. Jimmy had returned. He escorted her down the hallway. She passed Gina in the hall, who smiled at her shyly and complimented her dress. They took the elevator down to the first floor, which opened to a grand marble lobby.

  Off the lobby was a dining room, where Dorrian was waiting for her. He stood next to the table in a tailored suit, and held out her chair. Sierra sat stiffly.

  A waiter appeared, a boy of maybe sixteen, and poured them their wine.

  “Are you enjoying your accommodations?” Dorrian asked. “I hope you appreciated the massage. Gina is very good.”

  Sierra sipped her wine and ignored the question.

  “You employ an awful lot of child labor here,” she said, indicating their young waiter.

  “Well, I try to make sure they’re ready for life outside of their home. They all learn job skills in addition to their standard education. Some of them even go on to work for my company. After college, of course.”

  “And they just get over the fact that you ripped them away from their parents?”

  “Yes.” Dorrian replied simply. “They do. The locks are just a precaution. They don’t want to leave. They have everything they want right here. All the toys their parents couldn’t afford. All the freedom they were never given at home.”

  Sierra choked on a piece of garlic bread.

  “Freedom? Are you kidding me?”

  “Freedom is relative.” Dorrian replied. “The kids want to eat candy and stay up past their bed time. The teenagers want to drink and have sex with each other. I just give them what they want, until they no longer want to go home. Until this is their home.