Waking the Bear (Shifter Wars) (4 page)

More importantly, no one was around to see him strip naked before he shifted. He hopped out of the car and looked around out of habit. Humans couldn’t know about shifters. Most humans, anyway. He panned the forest.

Silent.

A crisp breeze hit his face and he shivered. Fur would feel warm and toasty. He slipped off his shoes and socks and placed them on the Jeep’s floorboard. A horned owl screeched in the distance, followed by the lone howl of a wolf. Not a shifter. Griff could tell by the tone.

He unbuttoned his blue flannel shirt, folded it and set it in the seat. The waxing moon, about halfway risen, cast a bluish glow across the underbrush and boulders jutting from the hillside. No lions in sight.

No animals visible at all. No humans.

It was as if the forest was his and his alone. His bear roared for release.

He undid his jeans and slid them and his underwear off at the same time, then folded them and set them on the shirt. He thought about leaving the Jeep unlocked, but decided against it. After he clicked the lock, he slid the keys under the front bumper for safekeeping.

Goose bumps littered his body and he shook.
So cold.
He closed his eyes and called his bear. He was near, waiting at the edge of consciousness and pacing. Ready to be set free. Demanding it.

He was going to run!

A hot spot in the pit of Griff’s stomach expanded and grew till it covered his whole abdomen, and streaks of white pain leeched through the heat as his body changed form. Griff was never fully aware of how the change happened, only the linear feeling of man ending and bear beginning. Not so much pain as a deep ache that wound through his very soul till it reached his essence.

That’s where his bear resided. Where it hid when it wasn’t in charge. But this time the bear met him closer to the surface and he welcomed him, relaxing into the pulls and tugs of skin and bone as he morphed.

He reached for his face and found his snout, and teeth that were long and sharp. He rose up on hind legs and let out a growl as he sniffed the air.

The bear was in the forest.

He ran toward the cave in a half-gallop, half-loping motion, through brush and over downed limbs that would’ve taken him many times longer as a human to scale. The cave wasn’t far. He could smell the lake inside and his bear knew exactly where to find the entrance.

As he went deeper into the forest the sounds of the night, much louder to him in bear form, created a symphony known only to animals. Insect wings buzzed against air and night-hunting birds and bats tracked motion and sound. Hares scurried from bush to meadow to nibble fresh buds and dewy leaves. Many rabbits tended litters of furry kittens, trying to protect the gangly little creatures from predators and teach them the ways of the wild.

He was no longer alone.

Griff smiled a bear smile, his tiredness fading as he became part of nature again. No longer an onlooker, he was part of the whole. Where he belonged.

The Sen Pal were part of the whole, too, but they were a blight that needed to be taken out.

He scowled at his failure. How could he have missed seeing any signs of lions in Deep Creek?

Every hair on his body stood and saliva filled his mouth. He smelled him. A lion, nearby and running. He couldn’t tell if it was Evers, but right now that didn’t matter. A lion was in Deep Creek.

He debated chasing it, but stayed on task. Maybe one of the sentries would catch it.

Kill it.

Then, as quickly as the scent had come, it was gone again and the woods filled with evening birdsong.

Griff climbed over a fallen pine tree, the trunk as thick as a truck tire and the coarse bark scratched away by a newly awoken bear, leaving the pale white center exposed to the elements. The rough bark scratched at the pads on his feet.

One thing was for sure, things would be different this spring. The lions had a plan.

Evers was back. Griff growled and ran faster.

Elijah was the last bear to try to reason with Evers, and he had lost an eye and part of his face in the resulting fight.

Evers had likely reclaimed his spot as Sen Pal Enforcer. The lion held a grudge between his teeth like a piece of meat. No one was going to take it from him until he’d torn it to shreds and spread it throughout the forest.

Griff picked up his pace as he loped between the trees, the ground damp and cold underfoot. He sniffed the air again for danger but only sensed peace. He’d be at the cave soon and his duty to Elijah would be fulfilled, whether Shoshannah appeared or not.

He passed the first cave sentry station and nodded to the bear patrolling. The bear grunted back.

No lion scent.

Almost there. The land plateaued a bit right before the mountain rose steeply near the cave entrance. Several large elm trees grew in a misty grove that must have been at least two hundred fifty years old. He looked up as he ran through them. He could barely make out the moon from this angle; the trees were so dense and the mist veiled the night air.

He nodded to the last Sentinel and nosed to the boulder that partially concealed the cave’s entrance.

He sniffed the opening of the cave and scraped away a slab of mud from the ground with his claw. The Cave of Whispers was kept under close guard, and it appeared its secrecy was intact. Sure, the lions used to know where it was, and maybe they still did, but they hadn’t been able to get close to it in a long time.

He stooped as he entered the cave, hating how the first room was so small and cramped and claustrophobic when he was in bear form. Condensation dripped from the ceiling and a cold drop landed on his snout. He shook it away and waited on his eyes to adjust to the darkness. The shadowy room looked smaller in the dark, and felt like it pressed in on him as he breathed.

As soon as he could make out the lines of the rocky walls and the path along the floor, he moved into the next room where the cave opened into a larger room. He shook to clear the mud from his fur and padded to the nearest wall where the lanterns hung.

He’d have to shift. He grimaced. He could move much faster in bear form, but he needed his thumbs to turn the light on.

His bear huffed and he roared and he shifted to human, his body changing and moving to its other form in protest. A growl, deep in his belly, never fully formed, as his snout shortened and his human vocal cords replaced the bear’s.

Soon, I promise.

A twinge of pain shot through his legs as they changed. His claws shortened and formed into fingernails and toenails. He was so small in human form. So fragile. The last changes moved through him and he relaxed in acceptance.
Bear will have to wait.
Several seconds later, he stood naked in the damp darkness.

“Damn, it’s cold.” He shivered and reached for one of the lanterns hanging on the wall. The cave held just enough light to see the glint of metal but not much more, even to his shifter eyesight. To a normal human, the place would appear almost completely dark.

He clicked a lantern on, its rusty knob grinding. He held the light up so he could cast a bright beam across the vast room. Stalactites, colored in red and green mineral sediment, dripped from the ceiling like a million glistening icicles. The cave walls shone in the damp air.

His hands shook. He wasn’t going to be able to stay in human form much longer or he’d freeze to death. He headed for the next room in the cave, a smaller one, and last before the massive room that held the healing lake.

The anteroom was the room where the bears held most of their clan meetings. Chairs and couches lined the walls and a few tables littered the area. He spotted a pile of stacked blankets in the corner. Elijah made sure the bears were always prepared.

“Ah, thank the gods for blankets!” He raced to the pile and pulled off the top blanket, a green wool square plenty large enough to wrap himself in. He shook out the folds out and wrapped it around his shoulders.

He yawned as his exhaustion set back in. “If I don’t get some sleep soon, I’m not going to be any help to anyone.”
If I don’t stop talking to myself aloud, people will think I’m all sorts of crazy.
He tugged the blanket tighter, the wool itchy against his bare skin. It would be so easy to make a pallet and lie down for a short nap, even with the scratchy blanket.

He was that tired.

No, he’d wait till he got home. His bed was much softer.

He carried the lantern into the next part of the cave, the largest in the explored area of the cave system. The light swung as he walked, casting stripes of yellow onto the walls. The vast room had a vaulted ceiling that domed at least forty feet over a lake.

“Hello...” He called more to hear his own voice than that of the ancestral shifter.

His echo pinged off the walls and lake.

Fed by an underground stream, the large lake exited the mountain through a waterfall and rivulet on the north face. The water was said to have been treasured by shifters for millennia, and many legends were told of its healing power.

All Griff knew was that it was freezing cold and he wasn’t going in the lake unless someone pushed him.

The fish that swam in the clear deep waters were white as ghosts and had no eyes, like most cave fish. Elijah said that some of the fish were hundreds of years old and could hear and understand human language. In their lifetimes, they’d seen both lion and bear guarding the lake.

He shivered. Lantern high, he let the beam play across the dark water, sending sparkles of light bouncing across the surface. In the far edge of his vision lay the tunnel that led to the ancestral burial ground. He hadn’t visited his family in many years, and he wouldn’t be tonight. He pulled the blanket closer.

Let’s get this over with.

Getting to the larger island out in the lake would be easy. He’d done it several dozen times.
Where are the boats?
The bears had a few small boats tucked away near the shore at a rocky outcropping, and Griff scanned the half light, trying to find them.

There.

He’d take the boat out to one of the islands in the middle of the lake. Meditate and wait. He placed a set of paddles into the closest boat. Plenty of room for one. He dragged the boat to the rock the bears used as a launch point.

He didn’t know how long he’d have to wait for Shoshannah’s advice, or if she’d even appear, but he knew the procedure as he’d tried it at least a hundred times. He’d give it a shot for Elijah’s sake, but then he was going home to rest.

Griff climbed into the cold boat, its wooden bottom creaking as he centered himself. He pulled the blanket over his knees with one hand and set the lantern down with the other.

Chills raced along his skin. What he wouldn’t give to have his fur coat on. But then he wouldn’t be able to row. He pushed the oars against the rock and shoved the boat off into the cold water. The splash echoed in the cavern.

The lantern illuminated the dome of the cave in a faint arc, and glistened off the water. He rowed. The echo of moving water sounded off the cave walls and reverberated through the space, the only sound in the space other than his breathing.

As he rowed, he stared into the darkness.

He rowed faster until he reached the little island. His arms burned from exertion. He carried his lantern and blanket to a large rock on the shore and sat, bundling himself in the blanket and waiting. If anything was going to happen, this was the place.

I should’ve grabbed another blanket.

His teeth chattered.

He sat for an hour waiting for Shoshannah to appear, but she didn’t. No visions, no words. No guidance of any kind. Not even a pattern in the mist now rising off the lake. He tugged the blanket close. The cave grew colder by the moment, and he struggled to stay awake.

The slow drip of water from somewhere behind him helped him tick off the minutes. He debated shifting back into a bear to warm himself, but feared that Shoshannah would appear and he wouldn’t be able to speak to her.

I’ll wait a bit longer.

He closed his eyes and an image of Amy materialized. Her golden hair, her sweet face and the half-smile when she teased. His pulse quickened as realized he couldn’t wait to see her again, even though he knew it was a bad idea.

He couldn’t give in and claim her as his own.
I want to see her.
Mating would mean condemning her to death by the Sen Pal. All he could do was protect her and try to keep the lions from learning his secret.

He heard sounds. Faint at first, then louder. A whisper of a melody, growing stronger as it floated over the water in the wispy fog. A song of mates and slaughtered bears and fire and death.

So much death.

Violence.

And love.

His heart thumped as he reached for the source of the music. There were no words—only notes—and they moved through the air and into his head. The meaning came across clearly, as if the song had unsung lyrics.

Trouble was coming to Deep Creek.

Trouble unlike the bears had seen in a very long time.

Griff startled awake, chills racing along his arms and legs.

He’d have to protect both the clan and Amy, and it wasn’t going to be easy. But he would.

To do his duty and keep his loved ones alive, he had to.

Chapter Four

Amy wrapped her wet hair and twisted the towel on top of her head. She grabbed her other towel and pulled it across her shoulders. The shower ran and she towel dried as quickly as she could. Steam filled the bathroom, condensation covering the mirror over the sink.

She had to get the water turned off. The knob had felt loose the last time she took a shower, but this time it had made a clicking sound when she turned it on. Now, it was broken.

The water was continuing to run.

She tried the knob again, but it twisted freely with no resistance. She tugged at it but it wouldn’t release, and the water continued to pour out of the showerhead. She jammed her hand onto the button and the water diverted from the shower to the bathtub faucet. At least the water wasn’t coming down on top of her now.

It wouldn’t turn off. The knob was broken.

Ugh.

After she hung her towel, she slipped on her fuzzy pink robe and tied it at the waist. No way around it, she was going to have to text Griff. He’d said to let him know if she had any issues. She’d only been in the cabin a couple days and she’d already broken something. He was going to think she wasn’t taking care of his place.

Double ugh.

She was pretty sure he wasn’t expecting a problem so soon, but she didn’t have a choice. She had to contact him. He’d probably call a plumber if one was available for emergencies in the small town. It was late and plumbers would charge extra.

She headed to the bedroom to retrieve her phone. Eleven p.m. He might be asleep. She hesitated. The water couldn’t run all night. She grabbed his business card from the nightstand and texted. His reply came almost instantly.

Be right there.

She sent him a thank you and tossed her phone onto the bed. He must not have been asleep.
Waking up Darren to help her with something would, more often than not, have caused more problems than she started with.

“One more try.” She headed for the bathroom, cinching her belt tighter. The water ran at full blast, and she turned the knobs again. No luck. She tried pushing on them as she turned, but the hot water knob wasn’t getting any traction to turn off.

Realizing she’d better get dressed before Griff showed up, she went back into the bedroom. She was pulling off the robe when she heard the knock at the door.

Shit.

She pulled the robe back up over her shoulders, tied it, and tugged the towel off her head. Talk about awkward. She finger combed her hair as she made her way to the door.

“I’m coming,” she called.

She opened the door.

“Well, hello.” Griff’s eyes went large for a moment as he briefly looked her up and down.

Amy took a step back, thankful her blush was hidden by the flush of heat from the shower and the pinkness of her robe. “You’re...quick.”

“And you’re...pink.”

She looked down at the robe, but everything essential was covered. “Sorry. No time to change. Come on in.”

“I told you I’d be here fast if you had a problem.” He followed her in and shut the door. “I was home.”

His voice, low and deep, whispered seduction. That had to be only in her head. He wouldn’t want her, even if she was in the market. She was damaged. Darren had made that clear from early on. No one else would want her. Besides, Griff probably had girls throwing themselves at him. Jill was certainly enamored with him.

Stop those ridiculous thoughts. Darren is the past.

He carried a small toolbox and the muscles in his forearm flexed as he gripped the handle. With his snug jeans and black T-shirt, his toned physique wasn’t hidden a bit.

Her breath caught in her throat. Damn, he was gorgeous. “T-thank you.”

He nodded toward the bathroom. “Let’s check out the bath before the place is flooded. The water won’t turn off?”

“No, and I’ve tried everything.” Amy headed toward the bathroom with Griff on her heels.

She paused in front of the bathroom door and Griff put his hand on her shoulder. Tingles raced across her body from his point of contact. A twinge of loneliness struck her in the gut and she closed her eyes to savor the warmth of his touch. It wouldn’t be so bad to pretend he was her boyfriend.

No harm.

“Excuse me.” He squeezed her shoulder. “I need to get in the bathroom if I’m going to take a look at the problem.”

The blush returned. “Yeah, of course.” She stepped aside so he could pass. The black T-shirt set off his broad shoulders and muscled arms to perfection. He didn’t look like a gym rat, but he definitely did some type of workout to maintain his physique.

The water ran full blast into the tub, and though the mirror was covered in condensation, no more steam rose from the tub. She’d run all the hot water out. Griff set his toolbox down then kneeled and tried the knobs.

Nothing. The water continued to pour out of the faucet.

“I’m going to need your help.” He opened his toolbox. “We need to take off the handle so I can use a wrench to turn the water off with the stem. I need you to hold the knob in place while I take out the set screw.”

“Okay.” Amy joined him by the tub, and crouched on the floor. She wished she’d at least put on panties. Being naked under the robe and so close to Griff was weird, in an exciting way. She wasn’t sure if her dampness was from the humidity in the room, or something else.

He took out a small screwdriver with a pointed tip. “Hold that knob as tightly as you can.”

Amy grasped it, every nerve in her body on alert at Griff’s proximity. No denying it. If she were in the market, he’d be at the top of the menu. He reached over her arm, brushing against her as he worked on the screw.

She shuddered. It took every ounce of her resolve not to lean into him.

“Grasp it tighter,” he instructed. “It will only take a minute to get the knob off.”

Heat shot through her. Had he really said that? She gulped. “I’m trying.”

He turned to her and winked. “Almost done.” He leaned closer, his thigh against hers as he worked the screw.

She concentrated on the feel of him. Even through her fuzzy robe she could tell his legs were muscled, too. Knowing only a bit of fabric separated them from skin to skin contact heated her even more. Maybe a no-strings-attached night would be exactly what she needed. He probably flirted with everyone, but he wouldn’t want to actually follow through with her.

A few stray drops splashed her face, cooling the burn that seemed to be permanent with Griff around. She wanted to pull the robe tighter, as it had separated to reveal her legs, but held the knob and waited as he turned the screwdriver.

Dreams of bedding the landlord would stay just that—dreams. Darren had made it more than clear that she wasn’t a catch to anyone but the dregs, and Griff was far above that category. His kindness only added to his sensuality.

After one more rotation, the screw dropped into his waiting hand. “There we go. It should come off easily now. Give it a pull.”

Amy tugged at the knob, but it wouldn’t budge, only rotate. Before she could speak, Griff’s larger hand covered hers, twisting the knob and pulling it free.

Her stomach turned flips. The whole incident was like a setup in a romcom movie. A bad, bad one. She couldn’t entertain the thought of a relationship with him. What about a no-strings sex angle? The more she thought about it, the better it sounded.

If only.

She set the knob on the ground as he rummaged in his toolbox. She watched the way his forearms flexed as he moved the tools around. He pulled out a large wrench.

“Back up, please.” He held the wrench up. “I need more room for this tool.”

Amy scooted back. Bent over the tub as he was, she got a plain view of his very nice ass. She traced it with her gaze. More than once. No question he would be at the top of the menu. À la carte or full course, it didn’t matter. It was all Prix Fixe to her.

Griff pushed down on the wrench, grunting as he forced the faucet stem to close and cut off the water. He sat back on his heels, staring at the pipe as if watching for watergeddon.

No water.

“You did it!”

He smiled, his hazel eyes wide and welcoming. “No,
we
did it.”

She pushed her wet hair behind her ears. “Sorry to call you out so late.”

“I was awake. Besides, this couldn’t wait.”

“I tried to fix it myself.”

“It was a two-person job.” He put the wrench back in the toolbox. “I’ll have to get a plumber out here tomorrow to fix this properly. The stem is stripped. That’s why the water wouldn’t turn off.”

“Thank you.” Amy stood.

He clasped the box closed and picked it up. “It’s my job.” He stood beside her now, and if he’d been any closer, they’d be touching.

“I do appreciate you coming out so late.”

“I told you to call me if you need anything. I meant
anything
.” His gaze lingered on hers, and his mouth parted as if he wanted to say something else. He licked his lips and stepped toward her.

She looked down, fighting the urge to step out of his way. Was he flirting with her? More importantly, was she enjoying it?

Oh, hell yes.

Having a boyfriend was not an option. Rebound relationships were not her style. She bit her lip. He’d never said anything about a relationship.

“Amy?” His voice was a low growl. “Look at me.”

She met his gaze again, her heart in her throat. “Do you have a girlfriend?” She blurted the question.

His eyes took on a wild look, like a frightened animal, and he stepped back.

“No.” He moved past her out of the bathroom. He was halfway to the door by the time she caught up with him.

“I’m sorry,” she called. “I don’t even know why I asked.”

He stopped at the door and turned. “It’s my problem, not yours.”

“I don’t understand.” She straightened her robe. The situation couldn’t have been any more awkward. Like the hot water running cold, so had her and Griff’s interaction.

He paused. “I don’t, either. It’s late and I need to get home.”

She nodded, head bowed. “Thanks again.”

“I’ll send a plumber tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

He started off the porch then turned to face her. “And no. I don’t have a girlfriend.”

With that, he was gone. Amy closed the door against the dark night, leaning her back against the hard wood. She needed to learn to filter what she said, not just open her mouth and let whatever she was thinking spill out. She’d screwed up, for sure.

* * *

Griff climbed into the Jeep, his heart thudding and his palms damp.
She asked if I have a girlfriend.
He pushed the toolbox over and buckled his seat belt.

She has no idea.

It would be funny if it weren’t so ironic. Amy wasn’t going to be easy to deal with. His
mate
. Being so close to her was going to cause problems. His bear growled its protest, the yearning evident.

“I know, I know.” If it were up to his bear, he’d have already killed Evers, attacked the Sen Pal on his own and claimed Amy. Probably all in one night. Only Griff’s humanity had given him pause. So much was at stake and a wrong move could mean many lives lost, including his mate’s.

His humanity made him wait for the right time to go after Evers.

Amy was a different matter. She would be a challenge. Being near her was intoxicating. He wanted to protect her, make her happy, shield her from the world and bed her—all at once. The whole mate thing was confusing.

Turning the water off had been easy. Figuring out what Amy wanted was more difficult. If he didn’t know better, he’d have thought she was flirting. He sensed that she also wasn’t wanting to date. She wanted alone time, she’d said as much.

Just as well.

He couldn’t ponder a fictional relationship. He started the Jeep. She’d asked about him having a girlfriend, and for a split second, he thought about telling her the truth. No girlfriends. No entanglements. Not as long as the lions roamed Deep Creek. Not after what they’d done to his family. If she pushed, he’d have to tell her.

He’d caved. He needed her to complete him. How that would happen was another matter. That part of him had already grown stronger, and would continue to grow.

He backed out of the drive and headed home. He drove slow, the forest around him dark and deep. No sign of any animals around. The woods were nearly silent tonight.

Sleeping.

Amy, dressed only in a pink fuzzy robe that matched her rosy cheeks. Next to him. Touching him. He knew she wasn’t wearing anything beneath the robe. Claiming her would’ve been so easy if he’d let his bear loose. All she’d have to do is say yes, and maybe give him a smile and blush like she did when they were working on the faucet. Yeah, that would do it.

The headlights cast a path out in front of him. If only his path to Amy was so clear.

If she’d reached for him, he might not have been able to hold himself back. That scared him. His bear pushed him to do things his human might not be brave enough to do. But his bear was also very angry with Evers.

Griff’s head ached with the dichotomy of his wants and needs.

He couldn’t tell Amy anytime soon, and maybe not ever. Perhaps once the bears had defeated the lions once and for all. Until the time came, if it ever did, he would watch over her, protect her. Whether she liked it or not. They’d be friends—for now. Nothing more. He could do that. No entanglements until the danger had passed, and who knew how long that would be?

No one had told him how strong the attraction to one’s mate would be. It was going to be hard to be near her and stay just friends. He screwed his nose up and his bear paced inside. Occasionally, his bear growled and whined, wanting him to take her in his arms. At other times, his bear growled in anger at the thought of her being out alone, unknowingly doing unsafe things.

He sighed. Living in Deep Creek had never been easy, but right now, things were more dangerous and complicated than he’d ever seen them since his family had been murdered. He rubbed his thigh where the scar remained.

Far away, he heard Charlotte singing, her little-girl voice high-pitched and innocent like fresh spring blooms before a storm. Then, the screams.