Bear Shifters: Hunt Collection #1 (21 page)

The sound of her car speeding off into the distance vibrated in his ears. Even though the air conditioning was running, making the hairs on his arm stand up in the low breeze, he needed fresh air. He opened the window in the living room and pressed his face against the screen. The sticky night air clung to his face. For some reason the heat outside calmed him instead of the cooler air inside. He dragged a chair across the tile floor and slumped into it, still huddled by the window. Chirping crickets and cicada’s filled his ears, their calls loud enough to block his brain from what happened with Alexa.

He allowed himself to be pissed at her. What woman who claimed to love someone would abandon them in their time of need? And then take all of their money without a single excuse? She might as well laughed in his face. She had no remorse.

Toby rubbed his forehead, the heat finally subsiding. Maybe he was getting sick. He experienced a lot of ups and downs since the surgery. Stan might have been right about him doing things too quickly. He was almost moving on instinct instead of with his rational mind.

He looked at his hands again and nearly jumped out of his skin. His nails were cut to the quick again like he always had them. The nasty nail biting habit had been with him since childhood. He swore his nails were longer ten minutes ago. Instead of being sick, maybe he was losing his mind. He thought about calling Estrella again, but thought better of it. He’d eaten like a ravaged animal that day and then worked out harder than he should have. His body was bound to play tricks on him. A good night’s rest was what he needed. He would figure out the rest in the morning.

Chapter Seven

Alexa didn’t return the next day. Toby left messages without any response back. At work, his normally focused mind was all over the place. His boss had to ask if he was alright. A tell-tale sign that his inward feelings were affecting him outwardly. During a meeting he was caught staring at his nails, swearing they were growing right before his eyes. They weren’t. And he suffered through manicure jokes for the duration of the meeting.

He and Stan ended up at the bar until midnight. Toby wasn’t ready to go home to an empty house. Stan was kind enough not to delve too deep into Alexa but he couldn’t hold back a few digs. It had irritated Toby, but he said nothing, knowing his friend wasn’t wrong about her all the time. He didn’t tell her about the credit cards. It was his fault he’d hadn’t been checking his statements and he’d sort it himself. He didn’t want to give Stan any more fuel against Alexa.

When he finally got to sleep, all he did was toss and turn, dreaming about his fingers turning into long, sharp claws and attacking everyone around him. His victims were nameless dream-people but it felt like he was tearing through his family and friends.

At 1:30 in the morning, his phone buzzed, waking him with a start. The covers were wrapped around him like a mummy and it took him a few minutes to untangle his sweaty body from the fabric. He’d slept in his bed for the first time in a while. The lit phone screen was a beacon in the pitch-black room. He’d spared no money when it came to black-out curtains. Though the moon must have been full that night since he could see every piece of furniture in the room. His eyes must have adjusted over the years.

“We’re done.” Alexa’s text said.

Toby rubbed his eyes, thinking he was still dreaming. The two words laughed at him from the screen.

“What the hell?” he grumbled. He called her and it went straight to voicemail. That prickly heat stung his skin and he hopped out of bed and pressed her number again. He did it over and over, each time adding an extra beat to his new heart. How dare she break up with him through text. She spent all his money and was a total bitch when he was in the hospital. It wasn’t over until
he
said it was over. He puffed short bursts of breath attempting to gain control. His extremities tingled as if all his blood was rushing to his new heart.

Calm down or you’re going to have a heart attack.
He wasn’t sure the prevalence of heart issues after a transplant but he didn’t want to test it.

He flew off the bed and headed to the kitchen, needing something to calm him down. His hands shook as he grabbed a glass from the cabinet. He filled it with tap water and guzzled it down. He drank three more glasses before stopping. His stomach churned. He should have drank more water in between beers. His insides quivered and he had a feeling he was going to puke. He leaned over the sink and dry-heaved.

When the heaving stopped, a growl moved up his throat and he wrung his hands together.

A deep stinging cut through his hand. He looked down and realized he had scratched himself. He stumbled backwards, holding his hands in front of him. The long fingernails were back, longer than they were with Alexa. They protruded at least an inch from his normal length. His face tingled and he tentatively pressed his finger against his face. Where there had been stubble that morning, now there were thick tufts of hair. He turned to the slider door to the porch and saw a thin reflection of himself. He rushed over and saw himself clearer.

Was he still dreaming? He slapped his cheeks a few times, avoiding scratching himself.
No, not a dream
. Black spots filled his vision and he doubled over. He gasped for air, feeling as if a truck pressed on his chest. His body temperature spiked and he cried out when an intense pain ripped through him. He jerked the slider door open and collapsed on the stone patio. The night air filled his lungs, bringing with it the overwhelming scent of grass and dirt. For some reason those things calmed him as the pain subsided. He laid on the warm patio stones, afraid to move. God, how much did he drink? He was hallucinating and in pain. Though the rational part of him remembered that his strange nail growth had happened when he hadn’t drank a drop of alcohol.

“You’re fine. You’re fine. Calm down, Toby,” he said aloud, hoping he could calm himself down. A shudder moved through him. What if this was his body rejecting the heart? Estrella mentioned that possibility. Maybe he was the 5%? The thought was accompanied by another wave of pain. He closed his eyes and dug his teeth into his lips until it subsided.

He forced himself up from the ground and stood still, waiting for something to happen.

He didn’t have to wait long.

This time the pain rocked him to his core. It was as if every cell in body was being pulled in all directions. To steady himself, he reached for one of the patio chairs, realizing too late his fingers were numb. They didn’t grip the chair as he intended and he fell forward, crashing into the table. The glass cracked beneath him. He moved away from the table, not wanting to be marred by the shards of glass that were destined to be embedded in his body with any more weight. He sunk to the ground, curling himself into a fetal position. A whimper escaped his lips. What was happening to him?
Please, please God make it stop
.

His muscles quaked under his skin, rendering him immobile on the ground. His throat constricted and he gasped for what little air he could get.

The heat inside of him pulse and his entire body broke out into a sweat. He groaned, thinking he had somehow been set on fire. His legs were covered in thick brown hair and he watched it crop up on his arms. He managed enough strength to lift up his shirt. There was more hair. He touched it. The texture was rougher than hair and very thick. Bile rose in this throat. It wasn’t hair. It was
fur
.

I’m dreaming.
He closed his eyes, willing his body to awaken.
I have to be dreaming
.
Why am I growing fur all over my body?

A splitting headache ripped through his skull and he bellowed between gritted teeth. The bones in his jaw cracked and popped. The sound of ripping fabric was far away in his ears, barely heard over his groaning. He struggled to keep his eyes open though his vision was full of blinking black spots.

His arms and legs straightened as if he were chained down and the fur grew longer until his hands disappeared under it. He fought whatever was happening to him but it was futile as it overtook him. He had no strength to move from his spot. He closed his eyes against the breaking of his bones and willed himself to pass out. The sweet relief never came. He felt every single second of the strange transformation. Why had he found so hard to live when now all he wanted to do was die. He imagined meeting his father again. A tear warmed his eye though it didn’t fall against his cheek, it soaked the fur on his face instead.

Time slowed. He could have been there for hours. When his eyes opened, he knew it hadn’t been that long. The moon hung high in the sky surrounded by sparkling stars. The heavens mocked him. He’d been given a second chance at life and days later he was lying on the ground about to die again.

Slow, even breaths escaped between his lips. A rumble emerged from his chest.
At least I’m still breathing
.

He tested his hands, they moved. With the intense pain of cracking bones, he could have been paralyzed.
Thank God for small mercies.

He tested his legs. Those worked too. He rocked his body back and forth. Everything seemed to be working. And surprisingly there wasn’t any more pain. He rolled onto his side, automatically landing on all fours. A rumble rattled his chest, his voice huskier than before.

Something was between his eyes and he swatted at it. A large paw filled his vision. He jumped backwards and the thing in his face followed him. So did the paw.

He swatted again and the paw connected with his face. He cried out, the sound deep and animalistic.

He caught his reflection in the sliding door and trudged closer. The face staring back at him wasn’t his. It wasn’t even human. It was a bear.

Chapter Eight

Toby cried out again, the sound strange in his ears. This couldn’t be happening. He lifted his legs and arms, the bear in the reflection mirroring his movements. The thing he’d been swatting at was his nose, awkward and large between his eyes.

“Toby?” A man’s voice called from the edge of Toby’s property.

Bear-Toby jumped, his hulking body slammed into the sliding door. He felt the glass bow under his weight but thankfully it didn’t break like the table.

“I heard a ruckus, are you okay? “It was Don, dressed in boxer briefs and a t-shirt.

Toby tried to hide but there wasn’t anything large enough to get behind. He stumbled into the house, poking his head out to see where Don was.

Don made his way through the gate separating their yards.
Shit
. “I’m okay—” Toby attempted forgetting he no longer had a voice. A series of grunts escaped his mouth instead. He wanted Don to leave him alone for once.

Toby backed into the house, pressing his body against the wall.

“What the hell?” Don said.

Toby risked a look to see Don staring at Toby’s ripped clothes.

“Holy shit!” Don cried and stumbled back. They locked eyes. “You-You stay away from me.” Don tried to lift the metal chair from the patio set but it was heavier than he expected. He struggled with it for a minute before hiding behind it.

Toby hadn’t been dreaming. This nightmare was as real as the day was hot. Don saw the same thing Toby had in his reflection. He held his hands in front of him as a gesture of good faith. Don’s eyes widened and Toby knew whatever he looked like wasn’t helping the situation.

Don’s legs shook and he eyed Toby then the fence. He turned away from Toby and ran to his house. “Sally! Call the police. There’s a damn bear in Toby’s house. I think Toby is hurt.”

At that moment, Toby knew he could hide inside of the house and possibly be caught by the police, and then murdered. Or—he could run.

He ran.

Toby raced past the neighborhood houses, hoping that no one else was up that late at night. He was unsteady on his paws at first but he figured out the rhythm quickly. Fear for his life made him adaptable. Sirens blared in the distance, increasing his adrenaline. He had to get as far away from them as possible. Then he had to hide. Where could he go? Were bears even prevalent in that area? Would there be a search for him? Why the hell did he turn into a bear to begin with?

Questions flooded his mind, enough to fog his thoughts. He hadn’t expected anyone to be on the road that late until headlights appeared. He stood in the middle of the road, disoriented by the bright lights. Thumping bass rung in his ears and at the last second the end of his life—human or bear—swerved to the side, barely missing him. The car spun around and came to a stop. He heard indistinct voices inside. They sounded pissed. One of them screamed.

Toby needed to find cover, fast.

He ran to the sidewalk, sticking to the side of the building for cover. The voices faded in the distance and he slowed, lumbering along the store-fronts. He inhaled as if by instinct. Passing a coffee shop, he smelled stale coffee beans even through the window. The scent warmed him. He tried again at the next store, a bakery. His mouth salivated with the taste of pastries in his mouth. He pressed his paws against the glass and was able to see a pale reflection of himself. Standing, he was the same height as his human form. The middle of him was bulky with fur. He pressed his paw to his middle and tilted his head to the side. He felt like himself even though his reflection was a damn bear.

He pushed off the window and lumbered around the corner. Across the street was a park. There were jogging trails through the woods at the far end of the grounds. It was the perfect place for him to hide while he waited a substantial amount of time for Don to calm down and the police take his statement. He wondered how long that would take. He thought of how he left his home; how Don would have saw the situation. The sliding door was open, tattered clothes were strewn on the ground, and a bear in his house. If there had been blood, he knew Don would overreact. He was a nice man but his ability to get overwhelmed by the simplest things—such as property lines near his rose bed—kept Toby from ever wanting to see him outside of a passing greeting every now and then.

He jogged across the street, passing the playground, and slowing near the edge of the trees. The feel of the dirt on his paws grounded him. The scent of grass was intensified and quickly became a favorite smell. He started to connect with his bear-side and tested his new, intense senses.

A slow breeze sighed through the trees and he lifted his nose, snuffling the scents around him. A nearby tree caught his attention and he went closer. Deep claw marks marred the bark and Toby dug his nose against the base. A scent that was sharp to his nose like a strong oily smell clung to his nostrils. He backed away, cataloging the scent for another time.

Further into the woods, he felt safe enough to relax. He sat on his haunches and reviewed what had happened to him that night. He—somehow— turned into a bear. The pain had been excruciating but the memory of it had evaporated as soon as he had transformed. How did one become a bear?

He tried to speak again. More grunts fell from his mouth. He couldn’t help but laugh, the sound more of a satisfied grunt. He pressed his paw into the ground and dug his claws into the dry earth. The overwhelming nightmares he’d experienced burst into the forefront of his mind. Were they precursors to what was happening to him? Along with becoming a bear did he have some strange prediction powers?

At the moment he didn’t sense any oncoming pain, so he assumed he was stuck in that form. For some reason, Estrella’s voice came into his mind about the power of positivity. If this strange metamorphosis wasn’t permanent he might as well make the best of it.

He caught the scent of something and immediately fell on all fours. His ears perked and his nose was pointed to the ground. Whatever it was, it smelled delicious. A rumble resonated in his stomach. Whatever he smelled would satisfy his craving even though he had no idea how he knew that.

It took several misses and embarrassing tumbles but after a while, he had tracked and caught the rabbit. The fur lining of the animal was flopped over his giant paws as he licked the smaller morsels of his meal. He should have been disgusted over killing the animal, but the taste was exquisite to his new taste buds. The small animal would satisfy him for now. Lately, as a human he’d been eating incredible amounts of food. If he continued on that path as a bear, he knew he’d need more before the sun came up.

Wandering through the woods, he came across smaller game, too quick for his ability. Though his hunger was his steady companion, it took a back seat to the enticing nature of his surroundings. Everything around him was more unique than he ever knew as a human. He could track the movements of every living creature that came through the area as if his nose was a GPS to his next meal.

A stream ran through part of the woods and Toby lapped some water, quenching his thirst and cleaning the blood from his snout. The water touched his paw and he sunk into the damp earth. The rich scent of the leaves in the trees filled him like no other experience before. He had a strong sense of belonging that filled his soul to the brim. A sense that he never knew he needed.

It filled a void in him that he thought Alexa had. The immature way she left him still niggled the back of his mind, but his world was so much bigger now. Bigger than her, and he knew without a doubt that he would be somehow be okay.