Avenge the Bear (4 page)

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Authors: T. S. Joyce

Tags: #Romance, #Fantasy, #Werewolves & Shifters, #Paranormal, #Literature & Fiction

BOOK: Avenge the Bear
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He’d proved his point. And with one last sneaky glance at Lovey-Eyed-Tarran, Reese slipped into the Bronco and shut the door softly beside her.

A few minutes later, Ethan leaned against the open window with a confused look lingering in his dark eyes. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yes. You’ve proved that you are much more than I thought. There is a lot more to this place than I’d imagined. You have a good thing here, Ethan. I need to get back to Muriel though.” She needed to get back to her uncomplicated life. One where she could look into a stranger’s eyes without being reminded of Trent and all she’d lost.

The trip back was torturously slow. She was upset and couldn’t figure out why. Maybe this was just how she would be from now on—emotional and unpredictable.

Ethan seemed just as confused as her and glanced at her often, though he didn’t seem to know what to say. When they passed the tower, Jesse, a lanky man with sunglasses and shoulder-length red hair, was standing on the outside railing high above them with binoculars pulled to his face.

“Hey, Boss,” he called down. “Do you smell it?”

Ethan stopped the Bronco and took a long drag of air out the open window. Reese did the same.

Smoke. Not much, just a hint of it.

Ethan asked, “Is it in the canyon?”

“No,” Jesse said, still looking at something through the binoculars. “Looks like it’s near Joseph.

And suddenly, a horrible feeling gripped her gut. His words caused her blood to chill until it was hard to move.

Ethan looked sick, though for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out why. His face had contorted to something unrecognizable as he gripped the steering wheel.

Instinct was a powerful enabler, and right now, hers was screaming to get the hell out of the mountains and down to Joseph to make sure her friends were all right. Maybe it was the fact that Trent had been burned that caused her unexplainable panic, but what if it was more than that? What if the bear fighting to claw its way out of her knew something she didn’t?

Ethan dragged his gaze to her and his eyes churned with a silvery color that couldn’t pass for human any day.

“Go,” she breathed.

He hit the gas hard and jerked them through mud holes and around tree stumps. Minutes felt like hours as she jostled this way and that in the passenger seat.

Muriel waited by the central tent when they pulled through the clearing, watching the horizon with a worried expression. The smoke smelled heavier here. Without a word, Reese jumped from the Bronco before it even came to a complete stop and bolted for Muriel’s jeep.

“Something’s wrong,” Reese called out, panicked.

In seconds, Muriel was behind the wheel of her jeep, cranking the engine. The vehicle roared to life and they tore off as soon as Reese was settled. She held onto the grab bar and caught her first glimpse of the plumes of black smoke billowing into the sky as they crested a hill. When she dropped her gaze to the side view mirror, the sight of Ethan froze her breath in her throat.

He was stalking to the edge of the woods. His shirt was gone and his pants on the way, and as he lowered to his knees, his skin ripped apart and a giant, dark-furred grizzly exploded from him. Arching his massive head back, he roared, scattering the forest birds into the sky.

She didn’t understand. His change looked forced and painful, but what had happened from the moments she left his Bronco until she escaped with Muriel to cause it?

Her eyes drifted to the mushroom of smoke clouding the sky in front of them.

Fear pounded through her veins with every erratic heartbeat as Muriel jerked the car to the left to avoid a divot in the road. Whatever was happening back there in the Seven Devils clan was none of her concern. Her people were in trouble—she could feel it in her bones.

Whatever happened back there didn’t touch the worry that filled her now.

Muriel hit a number on her phone for the third time in a row and waited. The echoing ring trilled over and over as the breeze whipped her dark hair.

“Reese,” Muriel said shakily. “Sam and Bron aren’t picking up.”

Chapter Four

Ethan was ripping apart from the inside out.

Fire.

It was always the same. Fire destroyed everything, that inconspicuous murderer.

And Reese, with her blond hair that shone like spun silk in the sunshine, and her baby blues that dared to hold his gaze like others were afraid to. With her smart tongue and inner strength that had misguided him into assuming she was a grizzly. She was a force of nature, but not like fire.

His bear was snarling, raving, roaring to escape his skin, but he’d had to stay human until he got Reese safely to Muriel.

If she knew him—really knew what was inside of him—she would hate him forever.

Fire was the destroyer of everything good, and he was no better.

She’d undone him today without any effort. When she’d teared up talking about her man, it had gutted him. No one had ever, would ever, cry over him. Not like the loyal woman who’d pulled emotions he’d never felt before from him. He had liked showing her a little of who he was today, and she hadn’t even run screaming. Not yet.

That’s because she hadn’t seen the monster inside of him, waiting to be let out.

For an hour with her, his bear had been soothed though. Bear hadn’t felt like pain and burning and fighting to remain in his own skin. Bear had been pacified to just observe the strange, ethereal creature who had walked into his office.

He could still hear the engine of the jeep as it disappeared down the road that would lead Reese back to civilization—that would lead her away from him.

Probably best. After all, what could he give her? Nightmares and secrets and heartache.

His place was here, among people who were accustomed to his animal. Among people who’d realized long ago he couldn’t be changed or fixed.

He pulled his lips back and bared his teeth in disgust at a feeling of loss he couldn’t understand.

Nothing had changed since this morning. He was still destined to be alone at the head of this clan.

Outside, he was no different, but inside, his heart was open and bleeding with want.

He’d never felt the need to connect with anything or anyone until now.

In one life-changing hour, the weak, human part of him had allowed Reese to ruin everything.

****

Muriel slammed on the brakes in the meadow in front of Bron’s burning house. It had rained recently, so the jeep skidded several yards through the mud before it came to a rocking stop.

An agonized sound wrenched from Reese’s throat as she watched the leaping flames lick what was left of the walls. Firemen were dousing the home in water, but already, most of the log cabin had collapsed. Stumbling out of the car, she searched the faces of the meandering crowd gathered out front. Sam wasn’t there, and neither was Bron, and they would be here if they could be. She lifted her gaze back to the house, now turning to ash and dust and a sob forced its way out of her.

“Where are they?” Muriel cried as she jogged up beside her.

About thirty of the Hells Canyon shifters were crowded outside of the reach of the thick smoke. Trinity, Reese’s boss at the bar, twisted and opened her arms to catch Muriel. Tears were streaming down her face and she was shaking. Frank, Aaron and Marcus stood near her, talking quietly.

“What happened?” Reese asked, her voice an octave higher than usual.

“Sam must’ve left something on. A toaster or her hair dryer…something,” Trinity guessed.

The smoke switched directions with the wind and they all stepped farther away from the inferno. That explanation didn’t feel right though. Sam was careful, meticulously so, and this felt too much like Trent’s death.

Reese stared in horror at the house, disbelief pulling at her limbs until she felt anchored to the wet grass around her boots. Movement caught her attention, and Bron stepped from behind the fire truck. He waited for Sam to step in line beside him. Her cheeks were covered in soot and she had a thick blanket around her shoulders. She coughed and said something low to her mate.

“Oh my gosh,” Reese breathed, sprinting for them. “Samantha?”

Her best friend looked up with such a sad, hollow expression. She opened her arms just in time for Reese to barrel into them.

“I thought you were still in there,” Reese sobbed. “I thought you were burning.”

“We’re fine. Bron got me out.” Sam’s voice sounded gravelly and forced.

Reese had been so scared. She stared in shock at the tree line behind them, but her tears wouldn’t stop. As weeping wracked her body, she buried her face into Sam’s shoulder and squeezed her tighter.

“Hey,” Sam cooed. “We’re still here. We’re okay.”

“I thought it was Trent all over again.” Reese’s voice shook like the licking flames behind her.

“Oh, no, honey,” Sam said, rubbing her back. “It’s just the house that burned. Just things. We’re all right.”

The house! Bron had spent a year building it. He hadn’t even got his sawmill rebuilt after insurance paid him back yet, and now he’d lost his home. He’d lost his brother to the flames, and everything material in his life.

“Sam?” Reese asked, drawing up beside her.

“Yeah?”

“Did you leave a toaster on? Or a curling iron, or anything?”

Sam’s lightened eyes swam with worry. “I keep going over and over it. I didn’t leave anything on, I’m sure of it.”

Bron hadn’t said a word. Muriel approached, crying, and he drew her into his side and watched the flames with his ex-wife on one side and his new mate on the other. It would seem a strange relationship if they hadn’t all gone through hell and back together.

“Someone did this,” he said in a solemn voice. “Someone wants us dead.”

A feeling of rightness clicked into place at his words. It was too big of a coincidence. The only two Cress bear shifters in the world, and both had been in fires. One hadn’t survived it, and the other was standing near her, covered in soot and sweat, and smelling like smoke.

Reese dragged her shocked gaze back to the flames.

This wasn’t a coincidence.

Trent’s murderer was back to burn the rest of the Cress line.

****

“Who do we like for this?” Logan asked. His eyes had lightened to a blazing gold that rivaled the sun, and he had Muriel tucked securely under his arm on Samantha’s couch, one arm around her shoulders and the other hand protectively held over her stomach.

Bron had called them to the house he’d fixed up for Sam, and closed all the blinds on the windows. He’d said this wasn’t a meeting for the clan’s ears. This was a gathering for his most trusted friends—the friends he knew didn’t have any part in Trent’s death or the fire today.

Logan, Muriel and Dillon sat on the longest couch. Bron and Samantha sat on the love seat in the quaint living room, and Reese perched on a bar stool.

“Dodger would make sense for the one with the most to lose if the Cress line took alpha, but he’s dead,” Samantha said.

“Who is up and coming in the clan?” Logan asked.

Bron sighed and leaned his elbows on his knees. Rubbing his face, he said, “Marcus, Aaron and Dillon make the most sense for second.”

“I’ve been challenging,” Dillon said with a nod. “I’ve won all my fights so far, but Marcus and Aaron are definitely contenders.”

“You’re gunning for second to Bron?” Reese asked. This was news to her. She knew Dillon could fight like a demon, but she hadn’t realized he had any interest in taking over alpha after Bron’s ten year term was up.

“I asked him to,” Bron admitted. “I wanted him in that second position because I trust him. And he’ll make a good alpha after my term is through.”

“Okay, so Marcus and Aaron have to know how well they are doing. They are just as close as I am to the top,” Dillon said. “We still have several more fights, but it’s looking like no contest until it gets down to the three of us. But if they think they have a shot, why not just wait until your term is up, then take alpha according to clan law?”

“Or maybe it has nothing to do with rank,” Reese said, bringing a knee to her chest and hugging it tight. “What if this has to do with Dodger’s death? The entire clan was riot level when you killed him, Bron.”

“Yeah, but that was explained,” Dillon said, “and Samantha visited every clan member to tell her side of the story. How Muriel turned her so she could be mated to Bron, and how he had the right to fight Dodger to the death according to clan law when he tried to kill Sam. There haven’t even been any grumblings in the last three months, probably because Bron is bringing us back to the way we used to be before Dodger fucked everything up.”

Muriel bit her lip and snuggled closer to Logan. “The only one I could think of who held onto anger was Trinity. She was trying to rally the clan against Bron for a few months after her mate’s death.”

“Yeah,” Reese said, “but Trent was killed before Bron and Dodger fought. The timing doesn’t work to pin this on Trinity. Plus she has always been a huge advocate of the Cress line taking an alpha term this generation. She’s been the biggest Cress supporter. And I saw her face today. She was ripped up over your house burning.”

“Reese is right.” Bron shook his head and leaned back into the cushion of the couch. “Trinity is all wrong for this.”

“We have to consider,” Logan said low, “that it is someone outside of the clan. The humans in this town are wary of us. From what Muriel tells me, they always have been. They can sense something is going on, we’ve just been careful enough to hide what we are. But what if we haven’t done well enough? What if a human saw a shift, or figured us out somehow? It could be anyone in Joseph.”

“Or outside of it,” Dillon said ominously. “The hunters aren’t extinct. They’ve just scattered because there aren’t very many of us left to manage. What if they saw some kind of threat in the Cress line taking over alpha?”

“I can ask my dad,” Samantha said. “Bron and I can go visit him tomorrow. He’s in jail for a while still, but the hunters have kept him in the loop as much as they are able. If there is a new hunter taking out the Cress line, he’ll know.”

“And if he doesn’t?” Muriel asked.

Bron had lowered his eyes at the mention of hunters. Samantha was one by birth, and he loved her father like he was his own. Reese couldn’t imagine what it felt like to have the people he trusted most questioned in his brother’s death. He lifted churning silver eyes. “Then he can find out. It wasn’t him, but if there are stirrings in the hunter community, he will know.”

“What about Muriel’s dad?” Dillon asked. “He seemed pretty pissed when Muriel divorced Bron and broke the clan’s alliance. He could’ve gone after you and Trent for revenge.”

Reese pursed her lips and gauged Muriel’s reaction. She’d just found out her father was sick, and she hadn’t mentioned it once. That was Muriel’s way, to deal with heartache quietly, but talking about her ailing father like this seemed to be stirring up emotions.

Muriel had gone pale and her throat worked as she swallowed. “I asked my father, but he had nothing to do with this. He isn’t up to plotting a murder, and if he was going to focus his energy on snuffing anyone out, he would more likely go after me before Bron. He blames the failed marriage on me, and now that I’m married to Logan, his vitriol for my life decisions has only grown. I can’t count out the rest of the Seven Devils clan, but my father didn’t do this.”

“We have to be missing something big,” Reese whispered, resting her cheek against her drawn up knee. “Some clue or hint. Something that would narrow down our list a bit.”

Bron tossed a plastic bag onto the coffee table in between them. “There’s this. We found it at the sawmill after Trent died. It has to be the matchbook that was used to burn the place, but most of the logo is missing and Logan and I haven’t been able to track down where it came from. We’ve tried every avenue we know to figure it out, but we’ve hit a brick wall.”

Reese padded forward and squinted at the half burned matchbook. The only visible piece of the logo was forest green and curling, like the beginnings of a Celtic symbol or something. She pulled her phone from her back pocket and took a picture of it. Dillon leaned forward and did the same.

Bron stood and ran his hands through his already mussed hair. “Dillon, I want you checking into Marcus and Aaron. Samantha and I will figure out if the hunters had a part in this. Muriel, go back and poke around Seven Devils to see if you like anyone as a suspect. Take Reese with you if you think you need to. Reese, I want you to rule out Trinity just to be sure. Logan, you’re still new enough in town that people wouldn’t be suspicious if you asked a few questions here and there. Be subtle about it, but let’s try to flesh out a smaller list of suspects. Trent should’ve been avenged a long time ago, and now our timeline just got a lot shorter. They’re after me and Samantha now. We need to figure out why, and stop them.”

“What will you do with them when we find out who did this?” Muriel asked in a small voice.

Bron looked nothing short of deadly when he shifted his empty, inhuman gaze to her. “I’ll kill them.”

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