A Bear's Journey Read online

The man stepped partly in front of the woman, and Olivia’s could feel him practically bristle, his bear waking up.

  “I wouldn’t let you within a mile of my family,” he said, his voice barely civil.

  “I’ve heard that feral bears eat their own young,” the woman said nastily.

  Olivia felt like she’d been slapped in the face.

  “I would never hurt anyone,” she said. She was half-angry and half devastated.

  “We all know what you did,” the woman said.

  Olivia’s throat started to close, and she could feel unwanted tears right behind her eyes.

  She could feel her bear inside her, snorting and growling, asking to be let out.

  Don’t prove them right, she thought. Don’t you dare.

  For the second time that day, she ran.

  She ran past the snack table, knocking off a few cookies, and before she knew it she was running up the stairs and into Hunter and Ash’s bedroom, throwing open the door to their bathroom.

  Olivia collapsed in their bathtub, sobs racking her body.

  She felt like she could barely breathe as she curled into a ball in the tub, holding her head between her legs.

  What if he’s right? She thought. What if I did kill them, and I should be in some mental facility instead of here, ruining Cora’s shower like a lunatic?

  Another sob ran through her, and she just let it go, the sound bouncing off the tiles.

  I can’t be here, she thought desperately. I can’t be here. I can’t be with regular people, I’m not fit for socializing.

  I deserve to be in some burrow, eating grubs and getting cold.

  There was a soft knock on the door, and she looked up.

  Charlie, her brother’s female mate, stood in the doorway.

  “Olivia?” she asked.

  “Hi,” said Olivia. She had no idea what else to say.

  Without speaking, Charlie crossed the room and stepped into the tub behind Olivia, then sat down, wrapping her arms around the other girl and holding her close.

  Olivia lost it, sobbing.

  “She’s right, I’m an animal,” she said, pressing her forehead into Charlie’s upper arm. “I can’t even be at a baby shower without wanting to rip someone to shreds, and I can barely talk to other humans...”

  She trailed off and sniffled.

  “You’re not an animal,” Charlie said, her voice low and soothing. “Do you remember when I found you in that cage?”

  Olivia hiccupped.

  “Sort of,” she said. Most of her memories from her time as a bear were strong but hazy.

  “You could have murdered me right there,” Charlie went on. “But instead you took me back to Daniel and Kade. It took you all night.”

  Olivia barely remembered it, and only in snatches: the cage, for sure, along with the one member of the wolf pack who’d been kind to her. Then she was running through the forest, something on her back, until she got to the cabin, tired and sore.

  “I barely remember that,” Olivia whispered.

  “It’s okay,” Charlie whispered against Olivia’s hair.

  “I shouldn’t be here, at a baby shower,” Olivia said. “It’s just... all these people celebrating something I’m never going to have, you know?”

  “Why would you say that?” Charlie asked, stroking Olivia’s hair.

  Another light knock on the doorframe, and Daniel, her brother’s other mate, walked in.

  “Hey,” he said, taking in the scene. He crossed to the tub and sat next to it, taking one of Olivia’s hands in his. “What happened?”

  “I’m not fit for human company,” Olivia gasped.

  “Some bitch said something mean to her,” Charlie said.

  “I’m an animal who kills people. I can’t have relationships with humans, no matter how many marshmallows they have,” Olivia went on, practically burrowing into her sadness.

  Daniel squeezed Olivia’s hand. “You are not,” he said, gently but firmly. “You are a good person who had a rough time, but you are our sister in law and we love you.”

  Technically, Kade and Daniel and Charlie weren’t married, but close enough.

  Downstairs, Olivia heard someone yelling.

  Please, let that not be about me, she thought, but she didn’t have high hopes.

  Two more faces appeared at the door: Olivia’s cousin Hunter, and her cousin-in-law Quinn. They also came and knelt by the bathtub.

  Olivia was starting to feel kind of silly.

  “We don’t have to move the whole party in here,” she muttered. “Just because I’m crying in a bathtub.”

  Daniel’s face broke into a smile. “There you are,” he said.

  Olivia sighed. Charlie was still hugging her from behind.

  “I promise not to shift and rip anyone apart,” Olivia promised.

  “We weren’t worried,” said Charlie.

  More of her relatives’ faces appeared in the doorway: Kade and Hudson and Julius.

  “You’re doing fine,” said Quinn, sitting on the floor behind Daniel and peeking over his shoulder. “Hell, if I could shift, I’d have torn that nosy lady a new one.”

  This time, Olivia actually laughed.

  Then she heard two people coming up the stairs.

  “You can’t carry me because I can still use my own two feet, okay? Now back off,” came a woman’s voice from that direction.

  Seconds later, an eight-months-pregnant Cora appeared in the doorway. She was slightly out of breath, but smiling.

  “Hey Olivia,” Cora said, one hand on her belly, her voice a little too chipper. “I kicked that bitch and her asshole husband out!”

  Cora grinned.

  Remind me to never fuck with a pregnant lady, Olivia thought.

  Behind Cora, Ash appeared, looking more than a little hesitant to approach his pregnant mate.

  “Thanks,” said Olivia, curled up in Cora’s bathtub and surrounded by people.

  “And I’ll boot anyone else who tries to pull that shit with me,” Cora said as she half-walked, half-waddled over to Olivia.

  Olivia took a deep breath, looking up at Cora.

  “I don’t think I can bend down,” Cora said. “I mean, hell, I haven’t seen my feet in a month. They’re still down there, right?”

  Olivia braced herself against the sides of the tub and stood.

  “I won’t eat your baby,” she said, rubbing tears out of her eyes.

  Cora reached out and took her hand.

  “I know,” Cora said. “The thought never even crossed my mind. You’re wonderful and brave and you’re going through something those jackasses can’t imagine, so fuck them, okay? This is my house, and you’re welcome in it any time.”

  Olivia nodded, feeling the tears about to start again behind her eyes.

  Cora reached out and wiped one away.

  “Now quit hogging my party in the bathroom and go eat some more snacks,” she said. “I baked like a maniac.”

  Olivia laughed. Everyone in the bathroom began to trickle out and back downstairs, until only Olivia and Daniel were still in the bathroom.

  “You good?” he asked.

  Olivia nodded.

  “I’m good,” she said.

  They hugged, a warm, big-brother kind of hug. Then they both went back downstairs, and everyone was much politer, particularly around Cora, for the rest of the evening.

  Chapter Four

  Craig

  Craig’s eyes popped open at 5 a.m. on the dot, the same as every morning. For just a moment, staring at the ceiling in the dark, the aroma of coffee wafting through the house, he thought it was just another, perfectly normal day.

  Then the truth came crashing down on him, and he felt adrenaline spike through his veins. Today they were going to go to the library and try to find her.

  Olivia.

  The bear they’d seen hundreds of miles away, further south, on a camping trip in the Eastern Sierras a couple of years ago.

  He glanced over at Jaspe
r, still sleeping peacefully, though both of them had had a rough time getting to sleep the night before, tossing and turning without sleeping, both wound up by the possible end to their mission.

  They’d been looking for her for years, two or three at least, and to be honest, they’d almost given up. Craig had nearly convinced himself that he’d just made the whole thing up and just made eye contact with some bear that he spun into a whole story.

  Then Jasper had seen her, practically in their own back yard. Granite Valley was one town over from Old Pine, where the two of them had lived for years.

  Near the bedroom door, Craig heard a muffled thumpthumpthump, and he smiled into the dark.

  “All right, girl,” he said quietly, sitting up in the bed and reaching for his robe.

  Thumpthumpthump, the sound of a tail against the floor.

  “I’m coming, I’m coming.”

  He tied his robe around his big frame and walked to the bedroom door, Ninety Nine’s tail thwacking against his legs. She trotted downstairs the moment he opened the bedroom door, shaggy tail wagging, and waited for him at the back door.

  Craig let her out, walked to the kitchen and grabbed the coffee pot. About a year ago, they’d finally bought one of those coffee makers with a timer. He’d been skeptical at first, grousing that it just wasn’t right if you didn’t make the coffee yourself, but he’d been proven wrong. One of the few times he didn’t mind being wrong. Having the coffee just waiting for you when you woke up was some kind of heaven.

  Halfway through the first cup, Ninety Nine came trotting back in, business concluded, and then sat by the front door, right next to a ratty pair of Craig’s flip flops.

  “All right,” he told her. “Let me pour a little more coffee and we’ll do this.”

  Thumpthumpthump.

  They took their usual walk around the block, Ninety Nine stopping to intently sniff every lamp post and mailbox, while Craig woke up gradually and tried not to worry about what they were doing that day.

  So we just march into this library, hand her a book, and say, we saw you three years ago when we were all bears and we think you’re just peachy keen?

  He rolled his eyes and took another sip. Ninety Nine saw a squirrel and froze in place, every muscle in her body tense. The squirrel clamored up a tree and she relaxed.

  This is the least cool way possible to approach a girl, he thought.

  It had been a while since he’d approached a girl — since meeting Jasper, they’d been only open to serious candidates, and there hadn’t been any — but he’d been pretty good at it when he was younger.

  A dopey, “Here’s your book, will you be my mate?” didn’t sound so great.

  We’ve gotta pretend we’re not stalking her, for starters, Craig thought.

  Ninety Nine looked up at him, big eyes pleading, and pulled on the leash just a little. Craig realized he’d been standing in one place, lost in thought, for a while.

  We need to just run into her when she’s buying coffee or something, he thought.

  Though that didn’t work out great for Jasper.

  Craig sighed. They’d either think of something, or wind up looking like ultra-dorks when they went to go hit on a girl in a library.

  He went back into their house, set back a little from the road on the very last block of town, went inside and fed Ninety Nine.

  I can’t blame her for going feral, really, he thought. It does make a lot of things a little easier.

  I mean, look at Ninety. All she wants in life is a walk and some kibble. Maybe some treats for being a good dog.

  A couple years ago, they’d been traveling back from California on a highway, right behind a flatbed truck. On the truck was a tiny black puppy, and before either Craig or Jasper realized that the wiggly black patch was a dog, the truck went around a corner and the puppy flew off, into the fields to the side of the road.

  Craig had practically crashed the car pulling over the side of the road, and then the two of them had frantically followed the poor thing’s cries until they found her.

  An emergency vet had pronounced her seriously bruised and scratched but mostly unharmed. By then they were already calling her by the name of the highway they’d found her on — Ninety Nine — and she wagged her tail when she heard the number, so it became hers.

  Craig stood at the counter, and the dog finished eating and came over to lie down in the kitchen, tongue lolling as she watched Craig shuffle around in his robe.

  “I think we found her, Ninety,” he told the dog. He leaned against the counter and drank his coffee.

  Thump.

  “Jasper has no game,” he went on. “None whatsoever. I gotta think of a better way to do this.”

  Ninety Nine yawned, and Craig bent down to scratch her ears.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “We’ll run her by you first. Make sure she passes the sniff test.”

  Thump.

  A couple hours later, Craig and Jasper were in their car, parking behind the library.

  “I don’t see why you’re against this plan,” Jasper said. “We go in, we give her the book, we ask her to dinner. What could go wrong?”

  “Everything!” said Craig. “Do we also tell her that we made eye contact once, when we were all bears, and that we’ve been trying to find her ever since that moment?”

  Jasper frowned.

  “Okay,” Craig said. “Imagine that this is for your dad’s campaign. Would you ever tell him to do something like that to a donor?”

  Jasper sighed and looked out the window, considering.

  “Probably not,” he admitted. “There’s more of a courtship phase before you really go for it.”

  “Exactly!” said Craig. “We’ve gotta court.”

  Jasper sighed and cast a look at the library. “I spent a lot more time studying and playing video games than I did getting laid when I was younger,” he admitted.

  “That’s why we’re a great team,” Craig said, grinning. “You’ve got the brains, and I’ve got the good looks and charm.”

  Jasper rolled his eyes.

  “Come on,” said Craig. He leaned toward his mate.

  Jasper gave him a kiss, only a little grudgingly.

  “Just follow my lead,” Craig said.

  “What’s your plan?”

  “I’m gonna wing it,” Craig said, opening the door of the SUV.

  “No,” said Jasper. “We need an outline of a plan at least. Something.”

  Craig gave him another look. Then he got back into the vehicle and shut the door.

  “Okay,” Craig said. “Do you remember when we met?”

  Jasper nodded.

  “Did you have a plan then?”

  “That was different.”

  “I didn’t have a plan then.”

  Just the memory made Craig get a half-chub. Jasper had been with his father at the groundbreaking of the new campus of Cascadia State University, back when the Senator had only been a representative in the Cascade House.

  Craig had been one of the guys doing the groundbreaking. That morning the whole crew, wearing their cleanest jeans, shirts, and work boots, had gotten an earful from the foreman about presenting themselves well in front of Representative Sargent.

  During the ceremony, Craig had locked eyes with Jasper once and completely forgotten that anything else was happening. Afterwards, at the first moment he could, he sneaked away and found Jasper at the refreshment table.

  His line had been, “So you work for the Representative?”

  It wasn’t a great line, but it had worked well. Very well.

  Well enough that the Representative had found them, sweaty and naked, in a state-owned SUV forty-five minutes later. He hadn’t liked Craig since.

  In the car in the library parking lot, Craig leaned over and kissed Jasper on the side of the neck, thrilling at the tiny sound that the other man made.

  “Loosen up,” he said.

  “Okay, okay,” Jasper said. “I’ll follow your lead.�
�

  Then he pointed at Craig and half-smiled.

  “Don’t fuck this up,” he said.

  Craig laughed.

  Then, after all that, she wasn’t even in the library.

  Craig and Jasper stood in the kids’ section, towering over the short bookshelves, arms crossed. Jasper still held a ragged copy of A Wrinkle in Time in one hand, glaring at a display with a cartoon flower on it.

  “Shit,” he muttered.

  Three moms instantly shot him death glares, and he raised one hand in the universal gesture of sorry.

  “This isn’t really part of winging it,” Craig muttered.

  “We could ask when she’s working again,” Jasper said.

  Craig just looked at him.

  “...If we wanted to be weird stalkers,” Jasper said.

  Craig grunted in response. His hands squeezed into tight fists, and he could feel his heartbeat pounding through his palms.

  He wanted her now, a feeling that utterly defied all reason and rationality. He’d never even seen her as a human. Only as a bear, and only once, but there had been something in her eyes that he’d found so captivating, so beautiful, that he hadn’t stopped looking for her since.

  “We know she’s here somewhere,” Jasper murmured. “Maybe this just takes patience.”

  Craig scowled. Patience was easily one of his least favorite words.

  “There’s that fancy coffee place next door,” Jasper said, a light coming into his light brown eyes.

  Craig raised his eyebrows.

  “I’m listening.”

  “Want to go? I heard they have chocolate croissants.”

  Craig uncrossed his arms. Pastries were his weakness.

  “All right,” Craig said. “You said the magic words.”

  Jasper took his hand and they walked out of the library.

  “I know what you like,” he said.

  The coffee shop was simply called Grind, and the moment Craig walked in, he felt out of place. Somehow, in the last couple years, the flannel and jeans that were his daily outfit had become cool, and now this place was full of skinny hipster kids all wearing the same thing as him.

  Plus, they wanted five bucks for a latte.