Her Bear In Mind Page 8

  Lately she accompanied Joe to most public functions. Often enough at least that after a few months the press had grown bored of taking her picture and trying to make a scandal out of the Governor’s new girlfriend. She mostly went to these things to serve as arm candy, but she didn’t mind. It meant she got to spend more time with Joe, wear really fabulous clothes, and had previously unparalleled access to the state’s politicians and local celebrities, who hadn’t quite wised up enough to stop talking to her yet.

  Sierra and Joe spent their nights together more often than not. They split them between her place and his and got away to Sleuth whenever they could. At her place they enjoyed the privacy of not having half a dozen staff milling around them (though Molly could sometimes be annoying). At his, they enjoyed Rose’s strawberry pancakes, which were as good as promised. But it was their time in Sleuth that was her favorite. Somehow that little house felt like theirs in a way neither of their separate places in the city did. She found herself fantasizing about moving in together and maybe getting married someday. Maybe even making room in their hectic lives for a baby. But even after seven months together neither of them had quite found themselves able to broach that subject just yet.

  Joe, much like Molly, also had a bit more money than he knew what to do with. So he sent her gifts a lot, especially when he was out of town and couldn’t see her. He sent flowers, chocolates, handbags, and shoes she was sure his secretary was picking out. Sierra kept meaning to send her a thank you card, expressing her gratitude for her excellent taste in footwear.

  Sierra returned home one day to find Molly ripping open a package on the counter. Molly froze when Sierra walked in, knife poised halfway through the tape, and looked up at her guiltily.

  “It’s not what it looks like.” she insisted.

  “It looks a little like you opening my mail.”

  “Me? Never. That’s a federal offence. Wouldn’t dream of it. This just came by courier.”

  Sierra laughed.

  “Well what’s in it then?”

  Molly finished ripping the box open. Inside was a fancy box of chocolate and salted caramel truffles imported from Switzerland and a card. Molly snatched the card up.

  “Hey! Cool! I absolve myself of all guilt for opening this now,” she said as she handed Sierra the card.

  The card read,

  “Sierra and Molly,

  I’ll be in Seattle for the weekend. I know the two of you were planning a movie marathon and thought these might make a nice accompaniment.

  -Joe”

  Molly popped one eagerly into her mouth. Her eyes went wide.

  “Oh my god. They taste like love.”

  Sierra sampled one herself. Molly had not exaggerated.

  They settled into the couch with the chocolates and a bottle of raspberry dessert wine. The wine went to their heads faster than Sierra had thought possible, making them both giggle stupidly at the movie. Molly fell asleep on the couch next to her some time shortly after they killed the bottle.

  Pleasantly drunk and a little tired herself, Sierra stood up to get another bottle. The room spun and she sat back down again. She eyed the empty wine bottle as a foggy thought tried to make its way through her brain. That they’d shared just one bottle, two glasses of wine each, but she felt like she’d had at least eight. Still, that thought didn’t seem incredibly important because she was just so tired. She’d worry about it after she got some sleep. She’d been working way too hard lately.

  Sierra leaned against Molly’s shoulder and closed her eyes.

  *

  She woke slowly, stiff and cold. She was lying on rough carpet in a darkened and freezing room. Her head was pounding like the worst hangover she’d ever felt. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness she realized she was at the office, which was currently abandoned at this hour. When she tried to sit up a wave of nausea overtook her. She vomited onto the carpet, bringing the wine and chocolates back up; the chocolates she was increasingly sure were responsible for the state she was in.

  Eric was standing across the room. He was admiring the photograph of the two of them on the wall.

  “I think I might keep this.” he told her. “No one will mind, right?”

  Either the drugs or fear had dried out Sierra’s throat. She struggled to croak out a response.

  “Molly?”

  “Not to worry. I left Molly drooling on your new couch. This is between you and me.”

  His eyes smoldered, staring down at her as she forced herself to sit up. He contained more rage in that gaze than she would have thought possible.

  “You ruined my life, did you know that? I’m the one that was trying to look out for Sleuth. They kicked me out because of you. I was trying to keep everyone safe. All Joe cared about was protecting his little bitch.”

  “You disobeyed your Alpha.”

  “I SHOULD HAVE BEEN ALPHA!” he shouted at her. “Do you know how old I am, little girl? I’m 206 years old. They should have picked me. Joe’s just a better kiss ass and a better politician than I am. He’s better at making them feel like they’re safe, but I’m the one that could have kept them that way!”

  He punched the wall, his fist leaving a gaping hole in the plaster.

  “I don’t need them. I’ll make a new pack. But first, you’re going to die, Sierra. You know that, don’t you? I’m going to peel off your skin and then rip you into little pieces and scatter them for Joe to find.”

  Sierra lunged for her desk. She grabbed her pistol out of the top drawer and emptied the clip into Eric’s chest as he charged at her. The impact from the bullets stopped him. He swayed in place but did not fall. He spat out the blood welling up in his mouth and growled at her. Sierra watched in horror as his body pushed the bullets back out one by one.

  He began to shift slowly, his clothes ripping off to make room for his larger frame. Sierra turned and ran. Eric made no immediate effort to follow her. There was simply no chance he wouldn’t catch up to her. He finished shifting just as the last bullet pushed its way out and fell to the floor with a soft clink.

  Only then did he chase her.

  Sierra ran into her editor’s office and slammed the door. As fast as she could, she pushed his desk up against it, then pushed the bookshelves over on top. Hoping the barricade would hold, she ran to the other side of the room and smashed the glass out of the window. It was five stories down to the unyielding pavement, but maybe she could make it if she found something to hold on to.

  The door smashed inward in a torrent of splinters. The furniture piled in front of it did nothing more than slow him for a few seconds. He ripped her away from the window and tossed her back down the hall. Sierra landed face first in a crumpled heap on the floor. She felt her cheekbone shatter on impact and screamed.

  Eric padded back down the hall to where he had thrown her. With a roar he swiped her across her stomach with his claws. Sierra felt them rip deep into her. Much too deep. She felt her own hot blood pouring out of her. It had splashed on to Eric’s white fur. He raised up his paw to slash at her again.

  Joe caught the paw in midair and held back the blow. He had arrived out of nowhere in bear form, sneaking up behind Eric. He roared at Eric and threw him into Sierra’s desk, snapping it in half with a groan.

  The two bears circled each other now, snarling and snapping, before Eric lunged at Joe and sunk his teeth into Joe’s neck. Joe shook him off and swiped at Eric’s back, raking his claws across it. They reared up, swiping at each other. Eric lunged for Joe again, but this time Joe dodged, and knocked Eric to the ground.

  Eric tried to struggle up again, but Joe had him pinned for good this time. With one last roar Joe buried his muzzle in Eric’s neck, ripping his throat out with his teeth. Eric shuddered and then was still. His body shifted back to human form, naked and mangled.

  Joe padded over to Sierra. She looked at him with unfocused eyes and reached one hand up to stroke his soft muzzle.

  “You owe me another desk.” she mumbl
ed to him in a dazed sort of way.

  There was so much blood. She felt cold all over. But Joe was warm. She pressed herself against him, letting his heat keep the chill at bay.

  “I love you,” she told him.

  Her vision was starting to go gray on the edges. She felt herself slipping away.

  “I love you so much.” she said faintly.

  Joe made a noise like he had been wounded.

  “It’ll be okay.” she told him. “I just need to sleep awhile. That’s all.”

  Joe lowered his muzzle down to her shoulder. She was starting to loose sensation. The feel of his fur against her was fading.

  Then with a sharp pain that snapped her out of the fog, Joe bit her on the shoulder. Sierra screamed. At first all she felt was pain from the bite. But then it was more than pain. It was energy. Like her blood was pulsing through her faster than it ever had before. The bite on her shoulder felt red hot as if there were lit coals under her skin. She began to shake.

  Joe shifted back into human form and held her. He whispered over and over that it was going to be all right and stroked her hair as she screamed again.

  With a curious itching sensation the wound on her stomach began to knit itself back together. Sierra felt the bones in her cheek melting together and hardening again. The icy feeling brought on by blood loss was long gone now. Instead she was sweating bullets, her body burning like a fever as it healed itself.

  Sierra ran one shaking hand over the now smooth skin on her stomach.

  Joe kissed her.

  “I’ll buy you another desk.” he promised.

  Epilogue

  Joe and Sierra watched the last fleeting rays of the sun set over the blue green lake at the edge of the wood. They stood together, naked and holding hands.

  “Are you ready for this?” he asked her.

  Sierra nodded.

  Together, they watched the full moon rise over the lake as her body began to shudder.

  CHAPTER 8

  It felt like electricity was crackling along her skin.

  Sierra shivered involuntarily. The shudder started at the base of her spine, spread across her chest and shot down her arms and legs, right to the very tips of her fingers and toes. Her teeth chattered as if she were cold, and inexplicably, she thought of standing in the snow on a Christmas morning, at six years old clutching a mug of cocoa with the wind blowing against her pink cheeks, feeling colder than she ever had before but also full of excitement and wonder.

  But all at once the feeling turned from cold to burning hot. The heat seared through her. It wasn’t in her skin, but in her bones, as if she were burning up from within.

  For one brief moment, she thought that she might die.

  Then Joe squeezed her hand. She looked up into his dark brown eyes. What she saw there was calm and reassurance. Without saying a word, those eyes told her that everything was going to be okay. She was safe, and she was loved, and Joe was going to be right there with her.

  It was the last rational thought she had for several seconds.

  That was the moment her bones began to change shape. Like hot metal hammered into shape by a blacksmith, her skeleton melted and reformed. The bones grew wider and longer. Joints changed shape. Her jaw molded and convulsed outwards.

  Cinnamon brown fur dotted with white flecks was sprouting through her skin. It tickled gently as it pushed its way out. Sierra felt her teeth and nails lengthening and hardening. She watched in fascination as her nails changed to black, her red nail polish flecking off as they changed shape, but not disappearing completely.

  She fell to her hands and knees on the forest ground, But she realized with a start that they weren’t hands or knees anymore. Her knees were not what hit the ground. Those were several inches higher. It was her paws that were planted on the ground. The large brown pads felt almost like shoes, cushioning her from the rough, pine needle-strewn ground. Sierra flexed her toes and felt her claws curl into the dirt, the sharp points curving in with ease.

  Clumsily, she tried to turn her body and fell with an earth-shaking thump. She was reminded of her first job, working at Chick-fil-A at sixteen, and having to wear that oversized cow costume. It had felt top heavy and awkward, not knowing where the limits of her “body” started and ended.

  Sierra wondered how long it would be before she stopped running into things.

  “You’ll get it,” Joe’s voice resounded in her head.

  He was trying to be reassuring, but instead Sierra jumped at the intruding voice, falling over again.

  “You can hear me?” she thought at him.

  “Just in bear form, yes. It’s how we communicate.”

  Sierra, furious at not being warned, frantically tried to think of anything she didn’t want him to know, then cursed herself for that train of thought and instead tried not to think of those things. She settled on focusing intently on the tree in front of her, and tried valiantly not to let anything else push its way into her thoughts.

  In her head, Joe was laughing at her.

  “I can teach you to guard your thoughts,” he told her. “You’ll get that with practice too. And then I won’t know about that night with your college roommate after all that tequila if you don’t want me to.”

  Sierra was going to kill him. She reached for a sound like a sigh or a grumble to express that frustration and instead found herself letting out a roar that echoed off the trees. Startled, she forgot how mad she was for a moment and instead marveled at what she had become.

  She could smell everything, from the sharp pine scent of the trees to the musky scent Joe was giving off. Even the lake in front of her had a smell. It was kind of like the smell of falling rain, but stronger, more distinct.

  Sierra took a few tentative steps forward, conscientious of the weight each step carried. A few more steps, and then impulsively she broke into a run. She was moving faster and with more reckless abandon than she ever had in her life. It felt like flying. Tree branches whipped her as she ran past, but with her thick fur protecting her they felt no more painful than running through clothes hanging on a line.

  She stumbled over her new limbs, fell, then climbed up again. She tried standing up, rearing up eight feet in the air, and brought her claws down on a nearby tree. She ripped into it, the bark giving way like tissue paper. The assault on the tree startled the owls nesting inside, sending them scattering into the air with disgruntled screeches.

  The owls. The owls smelled so good. She could smell their hot blood and their tiny beating hearts and was disturbed to find herself longing to sink her teeth into one.

  “It all right,” Joe projected to her, and this time she felt reassured by his presence instead of unnerved by it. “You’re not a monster. You’re just hungry. But you’re never going to catch an owl. Let’s start with something easy.”

  *

  Sierra smelled it long before she saw it. The deer smelled like grass and fresh turned soil. Beneath that was the warm, metallic smell of blood. Leaves crunched beneath her paws as she tried to approach the deer slowly, not wanting to scare it.

  Finally the deer came into her line of vision from between two trees. It was at the edge of a clearing, bending down to nibble on the bright green weeds growing near the base of a tree. Before she could get any closer, the deer’s head shot up. It could smell her too. The deer’s wide brown eyes met hers and froze there for a moment before it bolted into the woods. Sierra tore after it, letting out a roar that startled every animal in a fifty-foot radius out of its hiding place.

  Deaf to the scuffle she had caused, Sierra continued in her single-minded pursuit of the deer. She chased it out of the clearing and through the dense trees. It was fast, but not as fast as she was. Trees flashed by as she began to gain on the deer. She realized with no small amount of frustration that while she was faster, the slim frame of the deer was much better able to slip through the trees. It dove through a narrow gap and Sierra tried in vain to follow, and instead slammed her body into th
e unyielding tree trunks.

  The shock reverberated through her body. Black spots floated across her vision and she crashed to the ground on her back, feeling less like a fearsome black bear and more like a upside down turtle.

  As she blinked to clear her vision, she realized Joe was laughing at her again. Sierra resolved to bite him if she could ever get up again. He approached from behind her, out of her line of vision. As he did, his laugher changed from ringing inside her head to his familiar, deep chuckle from human vocal cords. Joe knelt on the grass next to her head. His deep brown eyes swam into view.

  “Are you alright?” he asked her.

  Sierra grunted in response, feeling more embarrassed than actually hurt. Joe stroked the fur around her head.

  “You know, you’ve single handedly scared away every bit of game for ten miles at least with that racket? I hope you weren’t too hungry.”

  She had been hungry. Sierra marveled at her own disappointment. Was this really her? Chasing down prey in bloodthirsty pursuit? She wore suits and high heels, and destroyed people or built them up with words. All her aggression was wielded at the world from a keyboard. Now she was this other thing. Powerful and dangerous. Capable of great feats of strength and violence. How could she reconcile this with the person she had been before? Was she the same person at all?