Wanted By The Soldier Bear (Heroes of Shifter Creek 1) (3 page)

Cecelia

              “…and my brother introduced us,” Cecelia recalled. “It was short, just a quick hello on both our parts, but we met.”

              “Six years is a long time,” he said. “I don’t remember much from my time in the military. I try not to.”

As Marcus spoke, a shadow crossed his face. He was withholding something, she knew, but she didn’t press. From the sound of it, the war had been harsh. It made her think of her brother, still out there fighting to protect the innocent. She’d always had a great respect for her brother, but she felt it more than ever.

Falling back against the tree, her temporary amusement gone, she sighed. “What do we do now? We don’t have much to go on. I don’t know much about the Bear Hunters. I doubted they were truly still around until now.”

“Many do,” he said. “I knew they still slogged around in their small bands, but I didn’t think they were the threat they once were. I have a feeling they’re growing, reinstating themselves. Which means trouble for our kind.”

“Starting with the Johannssons,” she uttered. “I’m glad they’re still alive, but I don’t understand why they took them to begin with. The Bear Hunters are known to kill bears in their sleep. They don’t take hostages.”

He studied her. Beneath his gaze, she felt more exposed than she had when she was pressed naked against him.

Oh my mercy, we had sex!
She realized, but it was minor compared to the danger at hand. There was no time for awkward conversation. Emotions had been running high with his near death; they had both needed a release. They got it, and now they had to focus back on saving the Johannssons. In a way, their love making was almost military.

“I’m not sure why either, but I have a theory,” he told her. “Let’s go back to the cabin.”

“Why?” she asked, trying to keep up with his pace. He was in a hurry. “What are you thinking?”

“You’ll see,” he said, revealing nothing.

“No need to be so covert,” she mumbled.

“It’s what I do best.”

She knew what he did best, she had experienced it firsthand, but she didn’t say so.
Focus
, she ordered herself.
This isn’t some holiday romance. This is life or death.
Thinking of Michael, she clenched her fists tight, ready to do some damage. It took a distinct kind of evil to kidnap a trio of kids.

At the cabin, Marcus went directly to the kitchen island. He retrieved a sharp knife from the drawer and held his hand up.

“What the hell are you doing?” she demanded. They didn’t have time for demonstrations.

“This,” he said, and he sliced open his hand, allowing blood to run down the tattoos of his arm. It was almost frightening to watch, especially how cool he remained doing it, hardly flinching as the blade pierced his skin.

Cecelia wanted to run to him, but she refused. He had done this to himself, for reasons she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. The war had messed him up, big time. “Are you done proving how bad ass you are?” she asked.

It was not the response he expected. “I’m bleeding,” he said expectantly. “And I’m not going anywhere until it heals.”

She was starting to suspect he stabbed himself with the spear. “Is this some kind of psychotic episode or something?” She was genuinely concerned. “If it is, tell me how I can help.”

Instead of answering, he took the knife and sliced his hand again. The blood was like a waterfall gushing from a mountainside. “Marcus!” she cried, and she finally went to him, grabbing a kitchen cloth to cover the wound. She applied pressure to his hand, but it wouldn’t stop bleeding. “What did you do?”

“Make it stop,” he muttered, his strength literally pouring out of him.

“I’m trying,” she said, her emotions starting to rise, confused as to what was happening and angry that he would hurt himself. Soon, those emotions were dominated by a sense of peace, the same she had felt earlier that day. With the peace, a light formed around his wound, and it healed, closing up completely.

“I knew it,” he said, letting the cloth drop, but there was no victory in his tone. It devastated him. “You’re a healer.”

Astonished, Cecelia looked down at her own hands, which were covered in his blood. That was impossible. She had never healed a person before. She fell back against the counter, trying to take it in. “But I’m not a shifter.”

“You didn’t get the shifter gene, but you definitely inherited a special gift,” he attested. “You can heal.”

“Why does that make you so sad?” she asked, observing him.

“Because it means the Bear Hunters weren’t after the Johannssons. They were after you.”

***

Chapter Five

              “We have to learn more,” Cecelia declared while on her hands and knees searching through the wall-to-wall bookshelf in the study. “This cabin is old. It’s been passed from bear to bear for generations. There has to be something of relevance here.”

              “Here,” Marcus said, grabbing a dusty encyclopedia at the bottom of the shelf. “It’s a history of shifters. You are looking for answers to your gift?”

              “No,” she replied, flipping through the pages, scanning through drawings of snakes and rhinos and lions. And, of course, bears. “I want to figure out why the Bear Hunters would need a healer.”

              “Isn’t obvious? To heal.”

              She ignored the comment, looking for something more. Finally, she landed on the section about the Bear Hunters. It didn’t take her long to read through it. The text shocked her, even more than learning that she could heal. In her mind, she had always imagined the Bear Hunters to be religious nutcases who didn’t believe shifters should exist because it defied the natural order or some other nonsense.

              But the Bear Hunters weren’t human, not completely. They were shifters themselves.

              “I don’t understand,” she said, closing the encyclopedia. “Why would other shifters want to make bears extinct?”

              “So we can’t dominate,” Marcus speculated. “We’re bigger than a wolf, faster than a rhino, and better hunters than lions. We could easily take over the shifter world. We did take over the shifter world,” he corrected. “Eons ago, there was a war between humans – all humans, even shifters. The bears fought on the side that won, protecting the liberty of the people. Until order was restored, they temporarily took charge. Obviously, it left a bad taste in the mouth of some shifters.”

              Marcus didn’t get a chance to explain more. A roar sounded from outside. “Stay here,” he ordered, and he left to check it out.

              He obviously didn’t know her well if he thought she’d obey. She followed him out onto the porch. A grey bear stood nearby, standing on his hind legs, roaring into the night. His roar was weak, but he was not injured. He was old. It was obvious in the way his fur shagged off of his lean body.

              “It’s the old man,” Marcus stated. “The one I saw in the woods, right before I was stabbed with the spear. He’s here for you.”

              Without another thought, he shifted into a bear and leaped off the porch to attack. The bear bodies clashed together, ripping at each other. Though the grey bear was old, he defended himself well against Marcus, clawing at him with vigor, well trained in combat. But he was no match for the much younger colossal black bear. Marcus bit into his neck, paralyzing the old man in his place.

              That’s when Cecelia saw it – the hurt and regret that haunted the old man. “Stop!” she shouted. When Marcus refused to let go, she ran to him, tugging at his arm. “Let him go!”

              Both of the men changed back to their human forms, and the old man fell onto the ground, catching his breath. Cecelia went to him to see if he needed healing, but he seemed okay. There would be a bruise on his neck in the morning, but that was all.

              “What are you doing here?” Marcus rumbled, mistrustful.

              “I came to warn you,” the old man said, looking at Cecelia. “I know what you are.”

              “How?” she asked.

              “My gift is to sense other gifts. That is why the Bear Hunters kept me captive. They’re collecting bears, using us against our own people so that they can grow stronger.”

              “Why would you oblige?” Marcus snapped.

              “Because they don’t kill those they capture, but they would have killed me if I didn’t do as they asked. I was traveling with the Bear Hunters to the coast. Along the way, I sensed the presence of a healer nearby. I wasn’t going to tell them, but the cougar – he has a gift of his own. He knew I was hiding something. He always knows. So I directed them towards the cabin.”

              “But they didn’t take me because I wasn’t a shifter.”             

“Yes,” he confirmed. “There are four of them in this band of Bear Hunters– three wolves and a cougar. One of the wolves is female, the rest are males. They carry spears as weapons when they are in human form.”

              “As I learned,” Marcus said coolly.

              “And the Johannssons?” Cecelia asked. “What of them?”

              “They are tied together in a cave, heavily sedated so that they don’t shift. I think the Bear Hunters are waiting for backup before they wake them. They don’t yet know that none in the family is the healer. I managed to escape before it became an issue.”

              Marcus zeroed in on the old man. “If you were able to escape, why didn’t you save the Johannssons as well?”

              “Because my bones are slow and cracking. I shifted and slipped away while the Bear Hunters were preoccupied with the family. It was my first chance at escape I’ve had since being captured.”

              “I don’t buy it,” Marcus said.

              “I do,” Cecelia argued. “He risked his freedom coming back here. He could have just gone home, wherever that is.”

              “Far,” the old man said. “Very far. And I can’t return home. They will only find me again.”

              Marcus surrendered. “Fine. You can stay here. Rest in the house. I don’t know if you’re safe here, but at least you’ll be out of the woods.”

              The old man nodded, grateful.

              “What is your name?” Cecelia asked.

              “Henry,” he answered. “I am Henry, the Grey Back.”

***

While Henry slept on the couch, recovering from his ordeal, Cecelia guided Marcus into her room where they could chat in private. “We have to go,” she told him. “Tonight, while it’s still dark. The sun will rise soon.”

              “No,” Marcus said firmly. “We don’t know these woods. We need the light.”

              “But what if their backup comes before then? We can fight off a band of four Bear Hunters, but no more than that. Not when it’s just us.”

              “I want it to be just us,” he declared, caressing her cheek.

              Before she could respond, he kissed her. She wanted to resist, but she couldn’t. Having Marcus near was the only thing holding her sanity together. There was something different in his kiss this time. It was hot, but there was an affection in it, an affection he refused to show her before.

              It made her want him even more. They tore of their clothes the way they tore off their vulnerability. This was no longer just sex. Marcus meant something to her. That was the déjà vu she kept feeling when she was around him. It was an awakening. She wasn’t a bear, but he was her mate. She knew that now. It gave special meaning to the night.

              Marcus set her on the bed. His cock was already fully erect, but he was in no hurry. He kissed her stomach gently, seductively, gliding his hand along her thigh as his lips touched her flesh. It was like a feather being dragged slowly across her body. Every kiss tantalized and aroused her. The closer he got to her core, the wetter she became. She wanted him to drink her in, to use his bear tongue to taste her.

              When he finally did, a shock of electricity shot through her. His tongue was strong and warm, reaching the part of her clit that pleasured her the most. She grabbed his hair, struggling not to scream as he bobbed his head up and down, circling his tongue against her pink folds, igniting the spot within her that made her body hot with bliss.

              Ready for him, she lifted his head to her and kissed him, leaving her core free for their bodies to connect. With his muscular, tattooed arm, he spread her legs apart wide, and he entered her, filling her core with his cock. As he pushed himself inside of her, they continued to kiss, their lips inseparable.

              She began to pant, the heat within her rising with every thrust of his cock. He brought her to the edge, and then he sent her over, freeing her body into a haze of pure, golden bliss. They came together, their destinies united. He was her mate, and she was his. She was always his.

***