Bear’s Desire: Revenge of the Bears

by Hart, Juniper

  “Where will you start, sire?” Vaughan demanded, seeming overwhelmed as his eyes raked over the chart, trying to make sense of the way his boss’ mind worked.

  “I’m glad you asked,” Helios said, striding toward the diagram and stabbing at a face not far from the center, where a hand-drawn picture of Alaric Aldwin sat. There were no actual photos of the hybrid demon in existence. He had passed well before modern photography had even begun to take its roots. Helios had drawn the picture from memory.

  “Who is that?” Vaughan asked, his eyebrows knitting, straining his myopic eyes toward the image.

  “This is the one who will first feel my wrath,” Helios chuckled. “After him, everyone else will fall into place.”

  “Who is he, sire?” Vaughan asked again.

  “He is the one who discovered aranium,” Helios replied, trying to keep the bitterness out of his tone. “He is the one who forged the sword that killed my Carina.”

  “But… but sire, isn’t it dangerous to go after him? What if he continues to hold the sword? What if he has forged more swords or knows where there is more aranium?”

  Helios sneered at him, his wrath almost palpable. Vaughan was only reiterating a thought he’d had a million or more times over the last thousand years.

  “That is what I intend to find out,” Helios retorted shortly, spinning toward the scarred writing desk near the front door.

  “But sire, you are going in blind!” Vaughan insisted. “You can’t—”

  Helios whirled around, his crystalline eyes becoming an ethereal blend of reds, greens, and golds as he fixed his stare on the lower demon. Instantly, Vaughan withered, holding his arms up as if to ward Helios off. The intense stare caused him to burn, Helios was sure.

  “Don’t tell me what I can’t do!” he hissed. “The time for waiting has passed. If the Council wants war, war they will get!” Once more, he turned and began to scrawl a list for Vaughan to undertake as the smaller being paced about nervously.

  “Sire…” he mumbled, but he wisely didn’t finish his thought, likely realizing the futility of voicing his concerns. He knew there was no reasoning with a demon hellbent on revenge.

  “There!” Helios declared a few moments later, producing a freshly printed piece of paper and thrusting it toward Vaughan, who took it with reluctant hands. The minion demon’s eyes grew wider and wider as he scanned the list, his mouth gaping.

  “Sire, I wouldn’t even know where to find half of this!” he protested. “Times are not what they were a thousand years ago!”

  Helios scowled, glowering. Must I walk this imbecile through everything? Ridiculous.

  “Then find something comparable for the times,” he snapped. “Must I hold your hand?”

  “No, of course not,” Vaughan answered quickly, noting that he had aroused his master’s anger. “I will see to this at once.” He hurried toward the door, likely regretting his decision to call upon his master that evening, but Helios called out to stop him in his tracks.

  “I want you back in one week’s time,” he said. “With everything on that list.”

  “I-I will do my best, sire.”

  “You will do as you are told,” Helios countered, his eyes narrowing. “And you will prepare a team.” Vaughan was aghast.

  “A team?” he echoed. “What kind of team?”

  “The kind that will not be afraid to die if necessary,” Helios snapped. “Will this be a problem?”

  “Yes,” Vaughan answered bluntly. The response surprised Helios, and he blinked.

  “Why is that?”

  “Sire… I mean this with the utmost respect, but…” Vaughan trailed off, seeking the words that wouldn’t entice Helios to metaphorically shoot the messenger.

  “Out with it, Vaughan!” Helios growled, sick of looking at the almost whimpering being.

  “Sire, no one knows who you are any longer. Once upon a time, you had followers, believers, but times have changed drastically since you last showed yourself. There simply is no one to assemble.”

  The sentiment slapped Helios clearly in his face, a newfound rage boiling through his veins. First, my love is stolen from me, then my reputation? This will not go unpunished.

  “Then I suppose we will have to do something about this, won’t we?” Helios growled, casting a look back at the chart on his wall.

  “Yes, sire.” Vaughan stood uncomfortably, unsure of where to go until Helios waved him away.

  “Off you go now. We have much work to do to prepare.”

  “Yes, sire.” There was a grateful note in Vaughan’s voice, and he disappeared out of the cabin, leaving Helios alone with his thoughts.

  The infuriated demon rested his eyes on the object of his revenge, his eyes narrowing to slits. Slowly, he ambled toward the intricate chart on the wall, his tongue lolling out as if he tasted something sweet on his lips.

  And it is sweet. It’s the taste of revenge just inches away. Soon, it will be mine. Helios didn’t remind himself that he had sung the same song hundreds, if not thousands, of times over the years, but he wasn’t discouraged by the lack of action. Not yet.

  “I’m coming for you,” he murmured aloud. “I hope you’ve felt secure in the belief that I’m gone, because your life is about to be stolen from you the same way you stole mine from me.”

  A long finger stretched to touch a faded photo on the wall, outdated and taken from afar over a hundred years ago. He wondered how much different the werebear looked now. Probably not much. He hadn’t aged since he had turned twenty-seven. He was still the same handsome but smug immortal he was the day Carina had died. He may not have been there in the flesh, but he was the guiltiest of them all now that Alaric was gone.

  It wouldn’t be hard to find the bear shifter and end his life with a single bite, provided the bear didn’t carry the sword with him.

  After all these years, Helios thought, I doubt he is still looking over his shoulder. He doesn’t expect to be blindsided by a ghost of his past, which will make it all that much more delicious.

  He paused. Would that be enough? Would his death be enough to sate him?

  There was only one way to know.

  With a ruthless snatch, Helios yanked the photo from the wall, curling it savagely into his hands, and spat on it with contempt.

  “I’ll see you soon, Reyes,” he hissed. “I can’t wait to finish what you started.”

  1

  Sage looked around the cabin and reached up for the device hanging on the wall as Ricky nodded curtly, like he was giving his approval for her to go ahead.

  Thanks for your support, Sage thought with some sarcasm, but she cleared her throat before speaking into the intercom, returning Ricky’s gaze evenly.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, we will be landing in Madrid in roughly fifteen minutes. At this time, we would ask you to please place your seats and tray tables in an upright position and fasten your seatbelts until the seatbelt light on the overhead display is no longer showing red. Thank you for flying with Northeastern Airlines. It has been our pleasure to serve you, and we bid you the most pleasant visit and hope you will join us again soon.”

  Sage replaced the microphone, bobbing her head at Ricky across the cabin. Instantly, the male attendant was on his feet, translating her message into Spanish.

  I really need to work on my language skills, Sage thought ruefully. One of these days, I’m going to get demoted.

  But she hadn’t been, not yet, and she knew why. She was one of the best flight attendants that Northeastern Airlines had ever seen, bilingualism aside. There were far more attributes she possessed that others did not.

  Shifting aside, she thought with mild amusement and some embarrassment. It defied reason that she’d lived as long as she had without picking up at least another tongue, especially in her line of work. And it didn’t help that her employers enabled her. One of these days, she was going to order Rosetta Stone and learn something, even if it was basic French.

  Unfortunately for
her, language just wasn’t her thing. Thankfully, she was better at other things.

  It wasn’t just that Sage was stunningly beautiful, with her fiery red hair and blazing azure eyes, completed with a sensuous, curving figure. Her sunny personality and quick wit went far with even the surliest of passengers and made her in high demand on every flight.

  Living for over a hundred years, you learn a thing or two about human nature, Sage thought wryly, moving from the front of economy to make her rounds of the plane.

  She wandered through the aisles, gently instructing the passengers to right their tables and put their chairs in the proper position before claiming her own spot near the galley, fastening her own belt as the plane prepared to land. A moment later, Ricky and Tracy joined her, collapsing as if they had been shot.

  That’s not a bad assumption—some of these flights are near-death experiences.

  “This was one of the worst flights I’ve ever been on,” Tracy moaned softly, as if reading her mind. “Do you realize I had my ass grabbed three times? I thought working economy was better than business.”

  Depends on the flight, Sage thought rationally, knowing that there was really no escape for a flight attendant when it came to obnoxious clientele. She looked at Tracy sympathetically, but before she could even make a commiserating noise, Ricky interjected.

  “Can’t blame them,” he tittered in his usual chauvinistic way. “It’s a nice ass. I have to hold back myself.”

  Tracy scowled at him, and Sage added to her disapproving look. Tracy, though, had a retort prepared, like she had fully expected Ricky’s disgusting response.

  “There are other ways to express appreciation without touching,” she snapped. “Maybe tell that to your fellow countrymen while we’re here.”

  Ricky howled, unperturbed by Tracy’s annoyance, but Sage understood her pain. It had been a long flight. While she would never say it aloud, the European flights were always tough, and overseas flights were exhausting. There was, however, a light at the end of the grueling ten-hour-long tunnel: Madrid was amazing. And Sage was going to be there for four whole days.

  Below her feet, she felt the plane gracefully drop in altitude. She was looking forward to checking into the sweet Catalonia Hotel and taking a long bath before sleeping for twelve straight hours.

  It’s a bubble bath and champagne kinda night, Sage thought. Dayna will be here the day after tomorrow, and we’ll do some shopping or tour the city. It’s been a while since I’ve been here and even longer since I’ve spent any quality time with Dayna.

  Her time as a flight attendant had taught her how easy it was to lose touch with reality. Flying from place to place was a surreal experience, one that left her haunted and out of sorts on occasion. Seeing other shifters was the only thing that grounded her, reminding her where she came from. Plus, Dayna was like a sister to her and always a blast to be around.

  “What are you doing tonight, mi amor?” Ricky asked leeringly, leaning across to touch Sage’s exposed knee. Instinctively, she kicked him in the shin with a blue heeled shoe, and he yelped like a wounded puppy. Tracy snorted with laughter.

  Sage eyed Ricky with disgust. Not for the first time, she thought about what he would do if she shifted and showed him who she really was underneath the perfectly coiffed outer person she wore. The temptation was real and oftentimes overwhelming.

  “Ouch!” he whined, rubbing his knee with shock. “Why did you do that?”

  Tracy guffawed again and turned to look at the lights of Madrid as they appeared in the small windows of the exits. She knew that Sage didn’t need her help, with Ricky or anything else, but that didn’t stop her from offering her opinion on the matter.

  “Maybe because you’re a pig?” Tracy replied for Sage, who was pulling the black skirt of her uniform over her nyloned legs. She gave Tracy a grateful grin.

  Preach it, sister, she thought, ignoring Ricky’s plaintiveness. She turned to the brazen male attendant and sighed, rolling her eyes.

  “The next time you touch me, you’re going to be wearing your balls as anal beads,” she told him conversationally. Tracy choked with laughter, and several passengers craned their heads to see what the commotion was about. The redhead clamped a hand over her red lipstick and stared at her female counterpart, her blue eyes blazing with amusement. Ricky was not as impressed, and he folded his arms across his broad chest, scowling.

  “You bitches have no appreciation for a good man. How do you expect to find love if you reject it at every turn?” he snapped, as though he had their innermost desires all figured out. “Don’t you want someone to marry you one day? If you keep acting like feminist skanks, you’ll never land a good man.”

  Sage and Tracy chortled, tears of amusement filling their eyes. Ricky turned bright red when he realized they were mocking him.

  “No, he’s right, Trace. How can we turn away the pure and innocent love of a man who states his case with an endearment like, ‘bitches’? I think we are being too hasty. Please, Ricky, shower us with more of your amazing attributes,” Sage snickered, blinking with feigned adoration. “No, in fact, forget it, let me just drop to my knees and beg you for forgiveness right now. Can I make you a sandwich? Rub your feet?”

  “I’d rather date anal beads. They would give me more pleasure, and they don’t speak,” Tracy added. The women exchanged more genuine laughter, finally silencing Ricky once and for all.

  Sage Aubin had been a flight attendant for Northeastern Airlines for almost ten years. The employees were held to a much higher standard than any other airline in the world, enduring vigorous training and psychological assessment spanning three months prior to their first flight. Sage could not believe she had been selected from the more than thirty thousand applicants from all over the world. It had been a grueling application, but when she had landed the job, she knew she had finally found her calling.

  For over a century, Sage had found herself wandering about the earth, searching for her place in the world. It seemed to her that everyone in her pack had found their mates or settled into some career which best suited their personality, but until she’d been hired as a flight attendant, she had always felt like something was missing in her life.

  I can only imagine what the other applications would look like, she had thought. It did not take her long to realize that she had been a shoo-in based on her assumed age and good looks. The fact that she had more stamina than her counterparts only added to her resume.

  The airline was renowned for its attractive attendants and stellar service, something they took extreme pride in maintaining. Their clientele was the crème de la crème, and Jocelyn Brown, the CEO of Northeastern, intended to sustain its reputation for years to come. Jocelyn was a smart, ruthless woman, and she knew how to play the public relations game like no other executive in the field.

  The other airlines had no idea what hit them when she created this business, Sage often thought proudly. Her male counterparts had sorely underestimated the role of a woman in a man’s world, but Jocelyn was relentless. She had doubled her fleet size in one year, and almost overnight had built an empire singlehandedly, overshadowing other airlines that had been around for decades. It had been a blow to some of the weaker males in the travel industry that an unmarried, self-made female could so easily step in and claim control on such a scale. Jocelyn had faced death threats, assassination attempts, and marriage proposals. She had sidestepped all with quiet dignity, each event inspiring her to grow and expand. The woman would not be stopped.

  The hours were long, and some flights, like that one to Madrid, were seemingly endless, but the perks were incredible. Where the cabin crew of the exclusive Emirates were granted shared apartments in bustling Dubai, the flight attendants working for Northeastern boasted their own lavish condos in New York City. Both their salary and inflight hours were twice as much as those of the leading airline.

  Looking at her inflight companions, Sage could easily see why the clientele appreciated flying wi
th Northeastern. Both Tracy and Ricky were beautiful specimens of the human variety who spoke several languages and maintained an imperviousness to stress. It was a prerequisite for the job before they even stepped foot on their first flight.

  Once a year, each attendant was required to meet a barrage of psychologists to ensure their mental health wasn’t deteriorating. Sometimes, Sage had a difficult time believing that Northeastern wasn’t the future. But for all the upkeep and extra work required, she knew that it was the best job in the world, and she would stay there as long as she could before they realized she was ageless.

  And then what will I do? she thought with some sadness. She didn’t permit herself to think about it. She still had a few years left to worry about that.

  The call came from the cockpit, and Ricky, being closest to the phone, responded to the pilot’s summons.

  “Yes, sir?” Sage and Tracy watched as he listened and nodded. “Yes, sir. Thank you.” He replaced the receiver and turned to the women begrudgingly. “We’re landing.”

  The plane surged forward, the landing gear extending to meet the tarmac. Instinctively, Sage felt her perfectly manicured fingers curl against the armrests tightly. She had experienced hundreds of flights over the years, but the landings never got easier for her, even though she knew there was very little a plane crash could do to harm her.

  During her second year in this job, Sage had traded flights with a new flight attendant who had been sick with the flu but needed the inflight hours. She had taken Jessica’s two flights: one from New York to Seattle and then from Seattle to Hong Kong. Jessica, in turn, had taken Sage’s New York to Boston and Boston to Paris roster. Upon landing in Paris, there had been heavy fog, and the pilot had overshot the runway, landing the passengers in a field. Although there were minimal injuries, thanks to properly enacted emergency procedures, Jessica had been traumatized by the affair, refusing to fly again.