Chapter 30
Willow watched as the sun dropped below the horizon, painting the sky with orange and lavender streaks. They drove directly into the sunset, Bruin at the wheel of the police truck, something in his manner keeping the rest of them quiet, as each contemplated just who they were gunning for.
Willow thought she knew, and she was scared for her mate. He made turns seemingly at random, even though she knew they weren’t, and before the sky was dark, they arrived at a gate on the side of the road, farmland stretching all around. Bruin stopped and punched a code into the box outside his window.
It beeped negatively and Bruin frowned, then tried again. Still no. The gate stayed shut. “They changed the code and didn’t tell me,” he said, his tone saying this was a very big deal.
“Where are we?”
Bruin motioned up the dirt road, which they couldn’t see the end of because of a forest surrounding it. “This is the fire chief’s estate.”
Rogue jumped out. “I got you, Bru-bru.” She went to the box, laying her hand on it. The back popped open and she peered inside. “You got any tools?”
“Of course.” Bruin retrieved his tool bag from the back and held it open for her. She selected his largest screwdriver, positioned it behind one of the computer boards inside the box, and pried. A pop sounded, then smoke drifted to the sky. Rogue went to the gate and pushed it open easily, then got back in the truck.
Mac pulled her close to him in the back seat. “Handy,” he murmured, then kissed his mate.
Willow glanced at Bruin and saw him watching her darkly, then he slid to her, hooking a hand around her hip and pulling her just as close as Mac and Rogue were. He purred, the first one she’d heard in a while, but her body responded immediately, her lips swelling like he’d said he was going to make her come with just his words. “If they’re kissing…” he said, shrugging, and then he fell on her mouth, taking it almost savagely, no longer her innocent Bru. Sweet yes, but with a purpose.
Bruin kissed her hard, thoroughly, and then he returned her to her seat, sliding back behind the wheel and driving through the gate. Willow could only stare at him, her brain scrambled with unfulfilled want.
They breached the trees, and what lay beyond startled them all, even Bruin. A sea of bearen, big males, three hundred or more deep, some of them in fire uniforms, all of them clustered around a large tent that looked to have been erected recently. That’s why there hadn’t been many bearen at the births. They were all here.
Five big males stood in the road, blocking their way. Bruin stopped the truck and they all got out, their four facing the bearen five.
One male held up a hand and eyed them suspiciously. “What in the hell are you doing here, Bruin? I know you weren’t invited. And how dare you bring wolves onto bearen land.”
Mac snorted. “You talk like we aren’t all in this together.”
The big male stared Mac down. “In this together? Is that what you tell yourselves so that you can sleep at night? So you can shift the blame onto the rest of us?”
Bruin addressed the male while Mac snarled. “Arthur, there are things you don’t know. That’s why I’m here.”
Mac cut him off, taking a step forward. “Wait a second, so that we can sleep at night? Just what blame are we talking about?”
Arthur stood toe to toe with Mac, his massive bulk overshadowing Mac, although Willow had to wonder who would win in a fight. Mac looked like he fought mean and quick and dirty if he had to, while this other guy only threw lumbering powerhouse rights and danced around in a regulation waltz. Arthur shook his head. “We all know that the wolven could have stopped Khain’s poisoning of our females if they would have moved faster.”
Mac looked genuinely confused. “What in the hell are you talking about?”
Bruin held up a hand. “I didn’t come here to argue. I want to see the chief.”
Arthur snorted. “You can go up, but your wolf friend and your girlfriends have to stay here. This is bearen business. No wolven allowed.”
Mac started to argue but Bruin held up his hand. “We’ll be fine. You wait here. I don’t think we’ll be long.” Turning to Arthur, he motioned to Willow. “This is my mate, and she’ll be coming with me.”
Arthur’s eyes widened and he paled. “You don’t mean…”
Bruin nodded. “I do mean.” He curled an arm around Willow and shouldered his way through the males. “Now if you’ll excuse me.” They parted, and Bruin and Willow were through, walking up to the tent, having to wind their way through crowds of bearen within only a few feet.
Mac cursed, but stood down. “We’ll be right here, Bruin. I’m calling in the cavalry, so you just say the word if you need help in there.”
Bruin didn’t turn, but he did speak, loud enough so that Mac could hear him. “I know, Mac. You’re a good wolf, and a better friend. Go easy.”
As the males saw Willow and Bruin coming, they parted, making them a little path. Word spread quickly, and Willow heard the words One True Mate spoken again and again, in hushed whispers. The emotions of the crowd pulled at her, hopeful, yet forsaken. She blocked as much as she could, staying close to Bruin, taking in his calm, pure, uplifting energy. It helped.
When they got close to the tent, Bruin stopped to question a male. “James, what are they doing in there?” he asked, lifting his chin to the opening flap. The look James gave Bruin was one of pure contempt, but he answered the question. “B3 is getting us our renqua back. He’s redeemed us.”
Willow stared at the male, unable to believe what she was seeing. Bruin frowned and pulled her closer to the tent, but Willow stopped him. “Bruin, James thinks you had something to do with all the females being killed.”
Bruin nodded heavily. “My father has told many lies in his madness, but those are two of the worst, and no one can quite separate the two. He rails equally against me, his firstborn, and the wolven, the protectors of all of us, so much so that the bearen confuse who was supposed to have done what. They think I colluded with Khain, and someone told the wolven, and no one did anything to stop either. B3 is convincing in his madness.”
Willow couldn’t believe it. “Wait, your father, B3, and the fire chief are all the same person?”
Someone inside the tent raised his voice, like a speech was starting. Bruin pulled her that way. “Bruin Berard Bloom the Third. Yes. He was a strong and solid leader before the females died, the most powerful Citlali the bearen have ever seen. I believe he went mad when we lost our matriarchs, and all of those around him followed him there. He’s been our loudest voice for so long.”
“But why does he think you had anything to do with it?”
Bruin stopped for long enough to answer her question before he pulled her inside. “Because I foretold it.”
***
Bruin stepped aside immediately to the right of the opening, glad all the males in the room were just as big as him. He didn’t stand out here. Willow did, but he backed her up against the canvas wall of the tent and stood slightly in front of her.
His father was on stage pacing, unused microphone in hand, looking tough and experienced in his dress uniform, his medals on his chest, his face grizzled and showing his age and his belligerence. Also on the stage were Bruin’s three younger brothers, triplets. Twins and triplets were common among bearen, while wolven and felen sometimes had even larger litters.
He pointed out the three males sitting at the covered table. “That’s Beirne, Hartz, and Mato, my brothers. Each of them is in charge of a different facet of operations under my father.”
Conri came in from the back, then slid into the fourth chair. B3 nodded at him, then strode to the podium, about to begin.
“You’ve met Conri. He’s recently been promoted to deputy chief. He’ll take over when my father retires.”
B3 looked around the room, his face shining, like he was proud of the males gathered there.
Willow pulled at Bruin’s sleeve. “What were you in charge of?”
Bruin shook his head and stared at his father as he spoke. “My father painted me as a traitor for years, before he tried to drive me out of Serenity. He convinced my own captain to put me in for a transfer to Chicago. I was about to accept it, mostly because someone was taking pot shots at me, trying to scare me, but then I met Mac and remembered that my place was here.”
Willow squeezed Bruin’s hand. “Mac’s special.”
Bruin nodded, his eyes on his father. “He is. They all are, but especially him.”
B3 raised his hands wide and spoke, his voice carrying over the crowd, no microphone needed. “Desperate times demand a return to what has worked before.”
Bruin kept his eyes on Conri, watching his brother’s expression for clues to what B3 was up to. Conri’s face was stricken, and he was shaking his head slowly, no, no.
Bruin needed to stop this, whatever this was, but Conri met his eyes, then, signaling to him to stay in the back. Willow grabbed at his arm. “Bruin, Conri is scared for you. Scared of what the bears will do to you if they see you. He says things have changed and you wouldn’t recognize them.”
Bruin stayed against the wall. He would wait this out a bit more, if he just knew what B3 was up to…
B3 spoke again, punctuating his words with punches to the air. “We are redeemed, and we will be getting our renquas back tonight. We have been declared worthy!” He looked over the crowd, frowning slightly at their subdued reaction. Had he expected applause? Probably. Anything other than this quiet skepticism.
Conri leaned forward, searching for someone in the crowd.
A male stood up and addressed B3 like a reporter at a press conference. “What about the Bear of Great Insight? Surely you remember that prophecy.”
Bruin leaned over and whispered to his mate, “That’s McMahon, Conri’s best friend.”
B3 snarled, and McMahon quickly dropped into his seat. B3 flung his arms out above the crowd. “Of course I remember that prophecy. Who spoke that prophecy?” He glared at the audience, then walloped himself in the chest with a closed fist. “Me, that’s who!”
He closed his eyes, letting words flow out of him.
“The bearen have lost their way and now they will pay. Only the Bear of Great Insight can renew them, make them worthy again. Through the strength and purity of his choices and the caring of his One True Mate, all bearen will be restored to their former glory, able to work as one again.”
His eyes shot open and he hit himself on the chest again. “I am surprised that no one has seen the connection. The Bear of Great Insight is I! We are one and the same.”
Another male in the crowd stood. “Then where is your mate?”
B3 snarled again, his face murderous. “She is coming,” he thundered. Then his voice dropped. “She must be.”
Two males and a female entered from the same door behind B3 that Conri had come through. The males brought the female onto the stage and left her there. The woman was small, bent, wizened, her face a mass of wrinkles, wearing a smart orange pantsuit and a domed hat. Around her shoulders was a fox stole, a fox fur with the mouth biting the tail. She looked like someone’s shrewd and maybe mischievous nan. And still, she radiated power. She crossed her hands and waited for someone to address her, her eyes on the canvas ceiling.
Bruin swallowed hard. This was what his father was up to? This was what has worked before?
He recognized the woman at once, because of the work he had done with the wolves when Crew had rescued Dahlia from another world. Mrs. White was her name. Her granddaughter had been stolen by Khain and used as bait to lure Dahlia to her death, and subsequent return to life.
Mrs. White. Clever. His father and his nan had always believed in the Women of the White, which is a story for another time.
Bruin leaned over to whisper in his mate’s ear. “I have to stop this. I think I know what my father is up to and it can’t possibly end well.”
B3 was speaking into Mrs. White’s ear on the stage, quiet enough that Bruin couldn’t hear, but when Mrs. White answered, she spoke loud enough that her words carried easily. “You know where my power comes from. Is that the kind of help you want?”
B3 nodded once, sharply, and Mrs. White bowed slightly, then turned and walked off the stage. Bruin stepped forward boldly, but before he could say a word, Conri addressed their father. “Dad, you have finally gone too far. You must stop this. You are not the BOGI, and that witch can bring back no renquas!”
B3 rounded on his second oldest. “I always knew you doubted me. I should have turned you out like your brother. I disown you.”
Conri shot to his feet to address the crowd. “B3 is not the BOGI. Bruin, my brother is the BOGI. B3 has told you many lies about him.”
The males in the crowd murmured, some of them noticing Bruin standing in the back. A few pointed at Willow. Bruin saw the confusion, anger, and pain in their eyes, but still knew he was safe from them. Bearen were not like wolven, or even humans. They saved lives, they didn’t take them. A mob scene was the last thing he had to worry about. Being eternally shunned? Bears turning their faces away from him and pretending they didn’t hear him when he spoke? That seemed more likely.
B3 scoffed. “Ha! Bruin the BOGI? He is nothing more than a traitor.”
Bruin stared at his father, the man he loved more than any other. The man he had tried so hard to look up to. In the past, it had been a knife straight to the heart when his father had uttered that word, but now? Bruin saw his father for what he was. Scared. Sad. Alone. Broken. A man who couldn’t help spewing pain over the ones closest to him. Bruin pitied him.
He took a step up the aisle, heading for his brother, intent on telling his father he knew the truth. It was over, and Bruin would not let him move forward with this plan.
Conri’s words and actions stopped him. “Let me show you how I know that not only is Bruin not a traitor, dad, but he is the BOGI, the one we have been waiting for.” Conri whipped off his shirt, and pointed his back at his father first, and the crowd second.
B3’s expression faltered as he stared hard at Conri’s back, then rubbed at his own shoulder.
Conri held out his left arm, so his controversial renqua was easily seen by all. “Yes, I have my renqua back, and I’ll bet Bruin does, too.” He turned and pointed at Bruin and Willow. “It came back when she touched me. She’s Bruin’s One True Mate, and she made my renqua return.”
The crowd turned as one, all eyes on Bruin and Willow. Willow stood and held up her arms, accepting their attention, moving into the aisle, leaving Bruin unsure of what she was planning.
“I did bring back his renqua, although I don’t know exactly how I did it. I have a power that I was born with, that helps me read and conduct the emotional energy of people.” She turned and sprinted up the stairs to the stage, making Bruin hurry to follow her.
She raised her arms again. “I have something to show you all, something B3 has been hiding from you.”
Willow pointed at B3, then plucked physically at the air near B3’s shoulder. He shuddered and pulled away from her, but she pinched her fingers together like she was grabbing something, and pulled at it, and when she did, Bruin could see it. It was a black and twisting smoke-looking circle of energy around B3’s head. When Willow grabbed it and spread it between her arms, a picture was visible in it, like a movie projected against a sheet outside.
In it, four-year-old Bruin played with sticks next to his brother, while the younger brothers tried to crawl nearby on a blanket of moss. Young Bruin stared ahead for a moment, his face going blank in a way that would have made the parent of an epileptic grab for the phone and call 911. He stood, tilting his head to the side, and recited:
Khain plots. The ax falls on the vulnerable. The water is ruined. The bearen chief falters, but there is still time.
B3’s face tightened, but he stared at the images with the same dread as everyone else in the room, as another scene played out. Bruin’s mom, B3’s mate, arguing with B3, telling him that she would go to the council without him if she had to. She believed that little Bruin had a message funneled through him from Rhen herself, and if no one did anything, something awful was going to happen. They fought bitterly, long into the night, and the scene ended with Bruin’s mom slamming the door to their bedroom, screaming that B3 was so headstrong and stubborn, he was going to falter them all into an early grave. B3 shouted one thing back to her. “He’s wrong. I’ll bet on it. I bet my renqua on it. I bet all our renqua on it.”
Bruin stared, transfixed, as the final piece of the puzzle of his life locked into place. His father was so powerful, he had inadvertently sentenced them all to a life without a connection to Rhen, with nothing more than a hastily said vow. Bruin snuck a look at his father and read the emotions there. His father remembered this differently.
The next “scene” of the movie Willow was pulling from B3’s memory was of B3, spread out in front of a coffin, weeping, five boys crying in a knot behind him, five thousand men left adrift in the background, most of them so dazed that they didn’t even realize the full magnitude of what had happened to them.
B3’s expression broke as he stared, frantic emotion sweeping him. Recognition. Guilt. Shame. Remorse. Self-hate. Then it all smoothed over as the madness gripped him, protecting him from himself. “Lies!” he shouted, but then he stopped as Mrs. White came back onto the stage, standing off a bit to one side. “It is done. He was waiting to hear from you.”
B3’s emotions went wild again, escaping his thin mask. Horror dawned on it as he realized what he had done. He grabbed for Mrs. White. “Wait. No! I was wrong. I-I. Call it off.”
Mrs. White didn’t move. “Too late,” she said, and her voice was almost apologetic.
The flap Bruin and Willow had entered through lifted, and someone appeared there. Bruin squinted against the lights, stepping in front of his mate at once. He knew who this was. They’d fought before.
Khain strode down the aisle as a man, eyes as black as if he’d made them up with woman’s liner, hair pulled back from his cruel face, mouth a thin slash, as he surveyed the crowd. His black t-shirt read, “The BOGI Sucks Eggs for Fun,” and his shit-kicking boots clacked on the makeshift plywood floor like tap shoes.
He walked up the aisle, his head swinging right and left, his eyes now glowing red, as he met eyes with the males around him. His t-shirt changed, now saying, “The BOGI Couldn’t Foresee his Way Out of a Child’s Maze,” now “B3 for BOGI, 2017!,” till the messages flitted through so quickly, Bruin couldn’t read them.
Khain approached the stage at a steady clip, and with each step he took, he grew. A foot. Two feet. Four. Until his head reached the canvas ceiling, and with a yank of his hand, the tent flew into the air, and over the heads of the crowd outside. The bearen murmured, some cried out, they all went on their guard, but none rushed the monster, including Bruin. He looked around. Mrs. White was gone. His brothers were all agape. None of them had seen Khain before. Some of them might have thought of him as they thought of the bogeyman. Not quite real.
Bruin shoved his mate behind him, sending her messages with his mind. Willow, I’m going to shift and attack him and you are going to run the other way and go straight to Rogue in the driveway, you two get away from here, do you hear me? Squeeze my hand if you understand.
Willow squeezed. Bruin nodded, then sent Mac a message. Mac, where are you buddy? We need you up here.
Mac came back immediately, his breathing elevated, his voice strained. I smell that fucker, Bru, I’m on my way, just gotta dodge this tent and get Rogue to stand down.
Before another word could be said, Khain reached down with a huge, blackened, clawed hand and snatched B3 off the stage. “Good bearen,” he said, the exaggerated wind from his words flattening trees, blowing hats off heads, making them all fall to the ground or be blown away. His five-foot-high face had twisted and reddened, looking less human and more demon. “Your chief has invited me here, to fix a wrong that has fallen upon you, his people.”
Bruin covered Willow with his body, trying to think of a new plan.
Khain held B3 in his palm, and raised the claws of his other hand. “Bare your chest, bear. This is going to hurt, but when it’s over, you’ll have what you want so badly.”
B3 stuck out his chest and his chin. “Mark me. I invited you. But leave the rest.”
Khain smirked. “Ah, but that would be rude, to leave my job here half finished.” He grinned, and needle-like projections shot from his claws, small enough to fit the chest of the male in his grasp.
Bruin jumped to his feet, pulling Willow with him, running for her life to the rear of the monster. “Now go,” he shouted at her, expecting her to obey him. He must save her, and his father both. He shifted as he turned, missing the slashing of his father’s chest with Khain’s mark, but hearing the cruel laughter that came from the demon’s mouth. Bruin ran for the monster’s tree trunk legs, thundering a message at the bearen in ruhi. NOW, if we all attack as one, we can defeat him, or drive him off. This is what the wolven do. Join with me, brothers.
But Bruin was alone in his assault. Khain laughed at him, worrying his ankle, tearing out chunks of blackening flesh, but changing nothing. Khain held up his claws, which looked normal again, except that they were each as big as a bearen male, which is to say a rather thick and tall and dense male.
Khain’s voice held an edge that could only be described as pure, molten evil. Bruin redoubled his efforts. What would Mac do? He climbed Khain’s leg like a tree. If he could get to the throat he could rip and tear- Khain slashed his claw hand through the air at the crowd of bearen at his feet, and energy, thick, red and destructive shot from his claws, three slashes, that would mark a hundred bearen at once, but Willow ran in front of them all. “No!” she shouted, meeting the energy headlong, in that way she had when she wanted to be sure you knew she meant business.
Bruin slipped in fear, sliding eight feet down the monster’s leg, his claws raising deep furrows in the dark flesh. She would be marked. Or fried. He would lose his mate before they’d ever even mated once, and that would be the end of him.
A glint of gold in Willow’s right palm caught his eye and he dared to hope the shiftsegen would be enough to make her rival to the monster.
Khain’s red energy met Willow’s body and she was blown backwards, but the males behind her caught her at the back and held her up. She acted as a mirror canted on a slant, shooting the red energy back in Khain’s direction, but over his right shoulder, off into space, harmless to the bearen he had been aiming for.
Bruin tried again. Brothers! Fight with me! We can defeat him if we all fight together. Bearen do take evil, useless, murdering lives. Stand with me!
A familiar snarl in his mind had him looking up, to Khain’s hand. B3 had shifted to a grizzled and massive bear and torn into Khain’s hand with his teeth. Another familiar snarl told him Conri had joined the fray. He climbed up Khain’s other leg, dropping Bruin a wink as he clawed and bit. Beirne, Hartz, and Mato, were next, and Bruin knew suddenly why his father had tried to drive him out of Serenity. B3 had been planning this for a long time, and he’d always known Bruin would oppose him. He’d undercut Bruin at every turn, but Conri had still believed in Bruin, still held loyal to him. If Bruin had left Serenity that might have changed. If B3 had been able to influence Conri, the younger brothers would have followed, and if the younger brothers had followed, the rest of the bearen would lean however B3 said they should.
B3 had been planning this renqua-returning party for a long time, but he’d thought he had to drive away his oldest son to garner support for it.
Bruin felt his father’s pain. And the pain of each of his brothers. It was time for revenge.
He sent out his battle cry one more time. We must fight together! It is our only hope. I believe in you, brothers, you are warriors!
This time, over half the crowd dropped to all fours and shifted, rushing the demon, swarming him until they looked like bees on a beekeeper. One white wolf joined the fray, climbing over bearen backs until he reached the throat of the monster and snapped his jaws closed again and again, digging through living, black blood for a jugular.
Khain shouted and trembled, squeezing his fists shut, hammering the animals at his belly and throat. B3 squeezed between his fingers and shot through the air. Khain shook himself and bearen went flying. Not Bruin and his brothers or Mac. They held on tight.
Khain spoke and bearen scattered with the force of the wind from his mouth, while Bruin and his brothers continued to chew on him.
YOU THINK YOU HAVE WON. YOU HAVE NOT. IT WAS MY AIM THAT WAS FURTHERED HERE TODAY. WE WILL BATTLE AGAIN, BEARS. NEXT TIME, NONE SURVIVE.
Khain disappeared with a pop. Bruin dropped in the air from twenty-five feet high, twisting his body, trying to land on his feet. He hit the steps and bounced, but still his ribs cracked, bone splitting through his skin. He shifted quickly, trying not to die, as bears around him did the same.
Human again, and healed, he grabbed someone’s clothes, and ran to his mate, lifting her from the ground, where she’d fallen after reflecting the demon’s energy.