by Lynn Red
I wondered if that was Eustace, about to ask me for another date, and I giggled to myself.
Down I went again, so free, so wonderfully free. I had to work soon, yeah, but right then it didn’t matter. That time on the way back up, I opened my mouth and let the chilly water fill my mouth. I spat it in a fountain when I came back up for air.
That was the second time I heard a crack.
“Is someone there?” I asked the mostly empty woods. It was so early that I doubted any other half-animals were running around. “Hello?”
No answer came, but there was another crackle and some ruffling, like leaves were disturbed. “Come on,” I said. “Who’s there? This is getting old. What’s the point of scaring me?” I gulped.
I wish Crag were here, I thought. Then I promptly chastised myself for thinking that. And then I thought it again.
Stupidest thing in the world. I shook my head, and then looked in the direction of the noise as I scratched a sudden itch on my side with one of my back paws.
Dragging myself out of the water, I shook dry and lay down on my rock outcropping. I sniffed the air, hoping for a hint of whatever was out there, but got nothing – not even a whiff. Overhead, there were no birds and even the little squirrel fighting the pinecone had vanished.
Slowly, I scanned the tree line. There was just nothing to see. Nothing to smell. I spun in place, search the woods on that side, too.
Another crack came, this one louder though. And right after, there came a grunt, and a groan.
The head that poked out of the forest was really, really not what I expected.
Round, wild-eyed and ferocious, the bear I saw was a golden color, like leather that was half tanned.
Patterns ran around his eyes, and down both sides of his neck, then around his shoulders. He shambled out of the woods, into the clearing. The way he looked at me felt familiar. I cocked my head to the side.
Before he noticed me, I stared for a long second at the huge monster, drinking him in. Every inch of him was covered in the same shaggy, gold fur, and every bit of him trembled with strength. He took a step, then another, and the whole world seemed to tremble with his power.
My mouth just hung open, my eyes glued onto him.
And then he turned to me.
For a second – a short, terrible, horrifying second – our eyes locked. He tilted his head to one side, and let out a short grunt. It was like he was talking to me, but didn’t quite get it right.
Something about this bear was thrilling and exciting, but something else about him screamed danger.
I backed up one step and then another, until my hind leg was hanging off my rock. I wanted to turn and run, but at the same time, I couldn’t take my eyes off him. It was incredibly stupid not to find the nearest hill and run down it, but I just couldn’t stop watching him.
Out here, there’s no telling if the bear you’re looking at is a wild, savage, half-crazy actual bear, or your neighbor out for a morning jog.
With tattoos around his eyes, of course, this was no garden variety zoo-escapee, but I knew for sure I’d never seen this guy around these parts before. And in Jamesburg, new faces were usually, if not bad news, at least not what you wanted to encounter in the middle of the woods.
By the way this guy was looking around I could tell he wasn’t exactly familiar with the area.
He let out another short, half-roar. He wasn’t making any moves toward me, but still, I felt threatened.
Something inside me burned hard and hot and deep. The stupidest thing in the world wasn’t that I was sitting there, perched on a rock above a creek staring at a bear.
Nope.
It was that the whole time, all I was thinking was how much I wished it were Crag.
My heart skipped a beat. Was it? Was it him? No way. How could it be? How could he possibly have found me? There was just no way. But those lines around his eyes made my core clench and relax in a way that I hadn’t felt before last night.
The bear took a step forward and turned his half-roar into a full one. His eyes were locked right in the middle of my forehead.
I looked back and forth for a place to go.
The instant the giant beast ran for me, stomping from rock to rock across the creek, I was off like a shot. I looked back to see him lumbering forward. With a shake of his huge, mighty head, the bear started trotting after me, and then broke into a full-on run.
As he charged, I swear he was saying something – calling out – but my mind was just a terrified jumble.
Getting away from a bear? Easy enough, I guess, as long as there’s somewhere to hide, or a tree to scamper up, or a trashcan to knock over and tempt them with. But getting away from a charging bear when there isn’t any of that stuff?
My lungs started to burn with exertion, which takes quite a bit of doing. He just wouldn’t stop though. The bear wasn’t close, but I also wasn’t losing him. It was just like a scene in one of those slasher movies where the mask-wearing villain just kinda walked after the shrieking, running heroine and somehow still caught her.
I shook my head and tried to push forward, but the edge of the forest was almost in front of me. Inside the woods I sort of had a chance, but out in the open? No way.
But then I had an idea.
Trash can.
In one last, stupid burst of energy, I made a break for the community garbage can behind my apartment. Please someone have thrown grilling trash in here. Some dirty foil, some old hotdogs, something, just... please...
I had no idea what the hell I was doing, but it was my only chance.
For the first time in our little chase, I was losing ground. My lungs were just on fire. The muscles in my legs and my arms and my back all ached like absolute hell. I chanced a look back. That bear was hungry. He had those tendrils of saliva hanging from his jaws. If I didn’t find something for this thing to eat, I had a feeling he wasn’t looking for a girlfriend, he was looking for dinner.
He seemed to hesitate slightly at the edge of the forest, but he couldn’t resist chasing me. I barked a couple of times, just little yip-yip sounds to irritate him. He wasn’t giving up.
The hundred yards to the picnic area seemed like the longest run of my life, and by the time I made it, I knew I couldn’t go much further.
I rolled up in a ball and threw myself straight into the side of the garbage can. My paws hit the ground and I strained like hell, but I got it over.
Two watermelon rinds. That’s it. That’s all the luck I had.
Sniffing the air, the huge, tattooed bear stopped.
I was breathing so hard I had started to wheeze. An asthmatic fox. Yeah, that’s me in a nutshell.
Backing away, I watched him approach the trashcan and sit down in front of it, then start batting the rinds back and forth between his huge hands. He looked so pleased that I just sat and watched him.
He let out a contended roar and picked one up. One big bite removed whatever shred of fruit was left. The bear flipped back onto his feet and shook his coat, then – faster than anything I’ve ever seen – dove straight at me.
I tried to run again, but it was no good. Wide open? Already tired? Nope, not happening.
A fence right in front of me just made me give up. Normally I’d just skip over it, just run right up. But there wasn’t any point. He’d just barrel right through.
“Told you I’d see you tomorrow,” a voice said, behind me.
No fuckin’ way, I thought.
I was shivering, twitching, shaking with fear. My lips were pulled back over my teeth in a silent panic, but when I looked back, I could not believe my eyes.
Standing there, with just his hand to hide himself from me and everyone else – and not doing an incredibly good job at it, honestly – was Crag.
“If you’re embarrassed, you don’t need to bother changing back,” he said. “You’re beautiful just like that, too.” His voice was like nectar dripping down the inside of my lips.
“I’ll go,” I
was wheezing. “I’ll uh, go change,” I said. “If you want to wait?”
He shook his head and gave me another of those half-grins. “I just wanted to show you I was serious.”
“Serious?” I asked. “I... I don’t...”
“About chasing you,” he said, with a little bit of a sexy growl in his voice. “I’m not letting you get away. See you tonight. Nine. The Clinton Civic Center has to be empty by half-past eight, so we have an early night,” Crag said, letting his eyes flash a little in the sun.
I’m sure he did that on purpose.
Then, as I watched him, not really sure what – if anything – I was supposed to say, he crouched down, let his transformation take him, then disappeared back into the woods.
Back in my apartment, I showered off, and ate about half a boiled egg.
I still hadn’t really processed everything that happened by the time I was headed out the door. The only thing I knew, really, was that whatever had happened, it had me hot as hell.
-7-
Violet
Work came and went. Millicent, my boss, was away at some conference for another day, and outside of Professor Duggan, the library saw light use at the beginning of semesters.
Of course, we were halfway through, and there were still only a few people hanging around in the cubicles, and one guy rolled up in a furry ball, asleep in the corner of a study carrel.
I couldn’t go ten minutes without thinking about Crag’s paws sinking into the ground as he stared at me with those gorgeous, burning eyes. How had I missed those deep, intricate, tribal tattoos that ran down the sides of his cheeks like ancient tears?
I had to shake myself more than once. I managed to avoid embarrassing myself, mostly, except for one time I got caught staring off into space and grinning.
Luckily, the guy who came up to me probably just thought I was off my gourd. Staring off into space, grinning and giggling? Yeah, that’s got a different connotation on a college campus than it does most anywhere else.
But, when a college kid thinking you’re stoned is the most exciting part of a day, that’s a pretty dull day.
A dull day that didn’t stay dull long.
Right after Henry took off from lunch, I was hoping for a long spell of quiet when Quigley Daniels wandered in. He straightened his backpack and approached the front desk.
“Hi,” he said. He’s an attractive guy, I guess, but about ten years too young to be my type.
“Hey Quigley,” I said. I was finishing some filing, and he was just standing in front of the desk fidgeting. “What’s up?” I asked, turning from my computer to him.
“Hey, uh,” he scratched one side of his ginger-haired head, then the other. “I was wondering, uh...”
Please don’t ask me out again, please don’t ask me out again, I thought.
“I was wondering, like...” He started habitually scratching his pronounced nose, very slowly. Imagine a wizard stroking his beard in thought, but instead of slowly stroking a beard, the wizard slowly scratched his nose. He’s a hyena, and hyenas scratch, but never this much. Either he was currently having a poison ivy problem, or he was going to ask me an embarrassing question.
Oh God he’s going to ask me out again and I’m going to accidentally say yes. Why do I always manage to do that? You’d think I’d learn like one lesson ever in my life. Don’t go out with college kids unless you’re ready to pay for dinner and a lot of beer.
“Look, Miss Larue, I was wondering, why doesn’t the library have any videogames?” he asked.
I wasn’t listening though. I’d gotten myself so keyed up for an embarrassing date offer that I guess I wasn’t going to let all that mental preparation go to waste.
“Quigley,” I said, “you’re a very nice guy and I’m sure you’re a lot of fun to be around. I respect your dad a great deal, and I hope he’s doing well, but I just can’t go out with you. I made it a rule not to date... wait a second,” I said. “What?”
He was blushing so furiously I thought he might have actually caught on fire from the inside. “I... er... videogames?”
“Oh God,” I said, laughing. “You weren’t asking me out.”
I could have absolutely died. “Okay!” I said, letting out a slow whistle. “Right, so, fine, that was about as awkward as anything could possibly be. What are you actually asking me? Videogames?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Uh, I mean, you got like books in here, right? And some movies? So like... why no videogames?”
I could have kissed the kid for not trying to hit on me. It’s hard to explain but after two years behind this desk, I’ve trained myself to react to being the “young, pretty one” in the room. Don’t get me wrong – I don’t think of myself as either of those things, but college guys don’t really seem to notice.
When something that wasn’t that happened, I tended to get a little flabbergasted. Luckily, I was rarely ever caught off guard. Certainly not like this.
All I could do was chuckle. “Well,” I said. “I mean, we have books because it’s a library, and we’ve got a bunch of movies because there are film classes. And film classes need movies to get taught.”
He held up a copy of Cobra, a Sylvester Stallone action movie from the early 80s. On the front, there was Sly with no shirt, and that sneer he always had on movie covers. “The film class uses this?”
“I... well, no probably not,” I said. “But I’m gonna guess that you can guess why there aren’t any videogames here.”
Quigley shrugged. “There’s a class in the English department about analyzing videogame stories.”
I took a deep breath and sighed a little more irritably than I meant to sigh. “Of course there is. Seems like there’s a class for pretty much everything. How about that weird one in the Biology department about... you’re really serious about this videogame thing, aren’t you?”
Suddenly I kinda wished Quigley was here to hit on me. At least I’m equipped to handle clumsy advances. Instead, he just crossed his arms. “They’re just as valid as anything else,” he said very sternly.
“I like Super Mario Bros.,” I said, grasping at anything to say to relate in some way to this alien life form that was present in front of me. “Is that...?”
He let out a scoff. Luckily, my office phone started ringing before he could get really cranked up. “Sorry,” I said, “one second, okay?”
I picked up the phone, looking out the glass front of the library to see Henry waving. “Hey,” she said. “Figured you might need a save unless you were just really hard up to talk about Nintendo games.”
“How did you know?” I asked, grinning and looking at the desk so I didn’t accidentally laugh. Luckily, Quigley stepped away a little bit, and started looking at the DVD racks. “I have no idea what to say to this guy.”
“I knew because that’s Quigley Daniels. He’s in one of my history classes, and somehow manages to tie every single discussion point back to computer games.” Henry laughed. “Drives Duggan nuts. Anyway, speaking of Duggan, I gotta get back to my office. He’s got me grading a pile of essays. “You doing anything later?”
I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face. “Yeah, Crag, he’s... well, he’s coming back to town tonight, and—”
“Be careful, Viola,” Henry said.
“Careful? Of what?” I asked. “He’s a good guy, we’re just gonna go out and—”
“This is me you’re talking to, Viola, it’s me, Henry. How long have we been friends? I know you, okay? I’m not gonna lecture you but... yeah, just be careful.”
I laughed nervously, like I didn’t know what she was talking about. “What’s so dangerous? What am I looking out for?”
“Your heart,” she said.
That hit me in the chest like a rock thrown out of a train. “Oh,” I said, gulping.
“Sorry, but I had to say it. Let me know how it goes, all right?” She asked. “I’m pulling for you girly, but I don’t want to see you hurt. By the way, did you noti
ce his eyes last night?”
“The color? Or those tattoos?” I was just about chomping on my lip to try and hide my excitement.
“Oh God, Viola, those tattoos,” she said. “I mean, tats aren’t exactly rare in a town full of inked up werewolves and werebears, but still... holy shit, but they somehow make him even hotter.”
I let out a hollow laugh. “You know,” I started to say then stopped myself before I got to the part about him chasing me through the woods and cornering me. Somehow, I didn’t think a story about my crush rampaging around after me through the woods was exactly what she wanted to hear.
I gulped. I just called him my crush. What am I? Eighteen?
“You okay?” Henry asked. “Sounds like you just swallowed a frog.”
At that, I chuckled. “No, I was just thinking about all this stuff. Anyway, it’s nothing you want to hear. Nothing we haven’t talked about a thousand times. I’ll call you later?”
Quigley Daniels got bored of waiting and took off. He shot Henry a weird look on his way out, but she just smiled and waved. “Thank God that’s over, huh?” she asked. “All right. Good luck tonight, and remember what I said.”
“I will,” I promised. “I’ll call you later.”
*
The thing that arrived in front of my apartment was not a motorcycle.
I mean, it was technically two wheels arranged in a line on a frame, but... holy shit.
I heard it coming from like halfway down the street, and I wasn’t even in the part of my apartment that faces the parking lot. At first, I figured that it must be some kind of diesel-chugging semi, or a big giant truck or something, but no.
No, of course it wasn’t.
As soon as I heard it, I checked my watch and went outside.
The thing that roared into my parking lot, and probably irritated the hell out of my landlady, Mrs. Whipplebottom, was the biggest, chrome-blinged-outest thing I’d ever seen. To be fair, everything irritated Mrs. Whipplebottom though. I looked back to see if she’d poked her head out yet to be nosy, and wasn’t surprised at all when she pulled it back inside and shut her door. She slammed it so hard the knocker bounced twice when it swung closed.
