Simon smirked as he cut off the shower and stood to drip dry. Normally he’d have ordered her out of the bathroom the moment he’d stepped into the tub. But the animal inside him was too close to the surface. It had reveled in the lust that had scented the air. It had smelled her attraction the moment she’d stepped into his home. Why else would he stand buck naked in the middle of his kitchen while arguing with her?
So he had let her watch while the water had brought his human body back online. Heat, wet, the feel of the lather on skin without fur. It had taken a while, but he had touched every inch of his body to remember his own dimensions.
And while his mind reacquainted itself with his body, the animal had smelled Alyssa’s spicy scent and gloried in showing off his sexual prowess. His loins had thickened and her musk mixed with the steam while he proved his fitness to mate. He’d stroked himself and imagined it was her hand, her lips, her honey that slicked his penis. The orgasm that shot through him had been blindingly intense. His vision had whited out while his body consumed itself with his fantasy of seeding his child in her belly.
When it was done, the man in him had been shocked. The animal had preened. And both had wanted to see Alyssa’s reaction.
Flushed cheeks, taut nipples, and eyes that were half dazed, half terrified. That was the sight of a female considering a mate. But then she’d gasped and fled the room. The animal had wanted to leap after her because she was slow and he could overpower her. But the man in him knew human females were different and such a thing was wrong.
So he stood still and let the squabble between animal and man continue in his mind. He knew in this body the man would always win though, damn, it was taking a while.
Suddenly a dark blue towel flew into the room to land drunkenly on the covered toilet.
“Ten minutes,” Alyssa snapped in a crisp, authoritarian tone. “We’ll get burgers on the way.”
Years ago, he’d jumped whenever a sergeant had barked in that tone of voice. Coming from Alyssa, the sound only made him smile.
No point in arguing with her. She couldn’t force him to do what she wanted. And he had a system when coming back from weeks as a bear. A process developed as a teen when he’d spent summers in the UP. The return-to-human protocol eased him back safely. And though he’d never been bear for months at a time before, he hoped that the reintegration process would be the same.
He grabbed the towel and began to once again log the sensations of his human body. Fabric rough on skin. The prickle of cold air on wet hair. The flex and strain of remaining upright and balanced on two feet without claws. All these things were being revisited and cataloged in his mind. He was human. He was a man.
The animal slunk back into a corner of his consciousness, sat down with a humph, and sulked. He could even feel the heavy thump of the creature’s rear end on the floor of his mind. In time, it would drop its head down onto front paws and snuffle in a pouting doze. It was the way of things with his bear, and he mentally tried to shut the door on the bear’s cage.
It didn’t close. Not yet. The grizzly was too large to be tucked away so easily. Especially since he had so brazenly demonstrated his prowess to the female just a moment ago. But it would happen in time. Assuming he strictly followed the protocol.
So he hung up his towel to dry and walked upright to his bedroom to get dressed. He went straight to his dresser and opened the first drawer. Tight briefs because humans wore underwear. He pulled them on. Jeans in the next drawer. Loose as he dragged them up over his hips. He had to think how to zip and button, but his fingers found the pattern. Then he stopped to remember what next.
Footwear? Jacket?
His hands opened the third drawer and pulled on an army tee, olive drab. Drawer four had socks. He had to sit down to pull them on, so he bent his knees and dropped onto his bed. A puff of dust blew up from the comforter, and he wrinkled his nose at the odor. He would have to remember to clean the bedding, but that wasn’t next on his list. He pulled on his socks. Then when he looked up, he saw his boots set almost exactly in his eye line.
He grabbed them, then jerked them on. Now it was time to tie laces. This, too, he mastered with alacrity, but it was still a reminder that he had to move steadily through his system or find himself hopelessly lost later on.
He was staring at his boots and trying to remember the next step when Alyssa appeared in his bedroom door. “You’re dressed. Good. We need to leave now. It’s already going to be late when we arrive.”
He turned his head, his gaze now able to see details that his animal mind could not. His bear had labeled her beautiful in that she had sturdy bones and smelled healthy. Now he saw that in human terms she had curves that were functional rather than fashionable. Breasts restrained under an athletic bra, jeans that were loose enough to be comfortable and hide what was likely to be strong, shapely legs. Her mocha skin was creamy like a perfect cup of coffee with milk. Her face had nice eyes and full lips, both without makeup. And her ears held tiny gold studs as her only nod to female vanity because her hair was downright severe in the way it was pulled back from her face in a tight bun. This woman didn’t even allow a ponytail.
He liked that kind of efficiency, he realized. It spoke of an ordered mind. Except when she spoke, her voice held all the temper of his long-ago sergeant.
“Stand up. Walk to my car. We’re leaving.”
“You remember me from when I visited with Vic two years ago.” A statement, not a question.
Her brows narrowed slightly. “Yes. Why?”
“You tried to order me around then. Did it work?”
Her mouth tightened. “No.”
“But you think it will now.”
She grimaced. “It did for a moment there. Back in the kitchen.”
“When I was vulnerable.”
“When you were confused after just being shot. And turning back into…into…”
“A man.”
“Yes.”
He narrowed his eyes until he saw just her eyes. “It will not work now.”
She winced. “Yeah, I’m getting that.”
“I control this territory. As a bear or a man, I control it. You cannot win here.”
He held her gaze until her eyes dipped in submission. And at that moment, he felt both human and bear ease inside his mind. The man knew it was an illusion. Dominance, control, even leadership could be stripped away in a moment. And then where was the animal’s prowess? The man’s control? Gone.
A memory flickered in his mind: the reason he had run to the UP and become a bear for ten months. It was because of his need for control. The man knew it to be impossible lie. No one controlled everything. But the bear lived in ignorance. And so he had escaped to the only place where he could believe in his own dominance.
Except now she was here. She forced him back into that uncertain reality where he could not always win. Snowstorms whipped up early. Secrets got out. And commanding officers bounced his ass out of the military.
His gaze dropped to his boots, both hating and loving the familiar feel. Military-issue boots for a man who no longer commanded.
“Okay,” Alyssa said, her voice gentle. “What’s next on the protocol?”
He didn’t have an answer. Not until he looked up from his boots and saw something metal on his dresser. He hadn’t noticed it before, but now it seemed to call him.
Computer. And beside it, his phone.
“I need to turn on my computer.”
“You can do that in the car.”
He ignored her. But just as he reached for his laptop, a folded brochure slipped to the floor. His gaze followed it.
A flyer for pizza.
His stomach rumbled. He was always hungry after a shift. Either from bear to man or the reverse, food was always a need.
“I should order pizza.” He had no real desire for the food. In fact, the picture on the flyer was unappetizing. But it was the next step on his list. That’s why it had been set there at eye level after he put on his boots.
“Burgers are faster.” Alyssa said as she stepped farther into the room. “And burgers have more meat.”
He was holding the flyer trying to make sense of the tiny rows of words. Damn it. It would take him a bit to remember how to read. The knowledge made him impatient and his words curt.
“That’s not protocol.”
He was staring at the words, willing them to make sense. Come on. Come on. Read, damn it!
Then suddenly a brown hand appeared over the text and gently pushed the flyer away. His gaze shot up to hers, anger churning. It was his bear, pouring other resentments into a growl, and her eyes widened at the sound. But she didn’t back away. Though fear spiked in her scent, she held her gaze steady.
“You’re not in the army anymore. Food isn’t protocol. You’re getting hangry.”
Hell. Now he wasn’t hearing right. “Hangry” wasn’t a word, was it? And the confusion had his bear rearing up inside him, ready for a fight. He held it back with a mental glare and tried again to slam the cage door. No go. But the beast didn’t surge forward, either.
Which meant he had to continue his checklist until he had a better handle on his bear.
“There is a process,” he said slowly, every word distinct. “Wash. Dry. Underwear. Jeans.” He pointed to his drawers in order. “Shirt, socks, boots.” He pulled the flyer from underneath her hand. “Read.” Then he growled, “Read!” as if he could order his brain to assimilate the symbols.
He was looking at the paper, so he didn’t see the change in her expression. Not until she touched his cheek and forced his gaze up to hers. Her brown eyes were serious as she spoke, the tone without nuances, and for that he was grateful.
“I can help. I can read it for you.”
“No.” Didn’t she understand? He needed to come back to human. She couldn’t do that for him. It was a path he had to walk by himself or be trapped as neither one nor the other. Not a bear, and definitely not a whole man.
He glared back down at the paper. Suddenly, one of the symbols made sense. “Two!” He pointed to the printed digit. “That’s the number two. Seven. Nine.” He was reading. The numbers at least.
“Yes. That’s part of the phone number.”
He looked up to the smaller metal thing on his dresser. “My phone.”
She grabbed it and handed it to him. “Do you want me to dial?”
“No.” He understood what he was doing. He could match the numbers on the paper and on his phone now. His fingers fumbled, but he managed it, and soon a thin female voice came through the device, barely heard because the phone remained in his palm in his lap.
“Simon! You’re back! Want your usual?”
He swallowed and nodded. Then he remembered to use his voice. “Yes.”
“I’ll be out there in a half hour,” the voice answered.
“No!” Alyssa said loudly. “We’ll pick it up.”
A pause and then a chuckle. “Got a girl this time? That’s new.”
It wasn’t protocol and he didn’t like it. But he didn’t have the wherewithal to argue. He never understood why communication was so easy early after a shift back to human but then seemed to abandon him as he brought other functions online. Like reading and manipulating an iPhone. Eventually it would all settle into place. The process usually took anywhere from a day to a week. But right now, he was swimming upstream.
“I want meat,” he said.
“Yeah, I know. Fifteen minutes.”
He thumbed off the phone. What was next on the list? His gaze rose to the device on his dresser. He pushed Alyssa aside as he stood up to grab it. She moved easily, her expression in the mirror somber.
“Laptop is the next step in this protocol?” she asked.
“Yes. To help with the reading.”
“Got it. You can do it in the car.”
He turned to look at her and saw that she arched a brow at him. That look was a challenge, clear as day and the bear in him bristled, wanting to fight because that’s what his bear did. But he was shifting back to human, so he did the opposite. He nodded and echoed her words, “I can do it in the car.”
“Great. Where’s your go bag?”
He frowned, taking a moment to process her words. And in that time, she rolled her eyes.
“Don’t blank stare me. I know you have one, and I’ll bet it’s…” She snapped her fingers. “Front door closet.”
She turned and tripped lightly down the stairs. He followed, his laptop in one hand, his phone in the other. She was ahead of him, pulling out a black duffel from his closet. She grinned at him, the look triumphant as she slung the pack over one shoulder. Then she pulled open the front door and gestured to her car.
“Come on. Food is waiting.”
He took a step, but stopped. “The protocol keeps everyone safe,” he said. “I am not at my best now and that is not safe.”
She frowned and he was pleased to see that she took his words seriously. Good. It was dangerous to upset a grizzly bear, and he was only 51 percent human right then. Though his higher thought processes were coming on strong, it would take a couple hours at least before he could reliably control his primal instincts. The animal still had a strong grip on his body and it was aiming his feet toward the woods. Go back out to the woods and—
“Oh no, you don’t. We’re getting in the car.”
This was why he got delivery. Because once the scent and sight of the woods hit his body, the grizzly surged forward. It wanted to be back out there. It wanted—
An arm gripped him tight and hauled him around. He was already snarling, showing his teeth at the woman before her.
“Damn it! Get it together!” she snapped.
He was trying. But she had interrupted his protocol. This wasn’t going to work—
She yanked on his ears as she jerked his face down until they were nose to nose. “The car. Get in the car.”
Her scent filled his nostrils. That nutty tang that surrounded her. He liked it and he liked the lingering echo of musk that clung to her skin. It competed with the rustle of the trees and the scent of summer pine. And since it was a human scent, his mind latched on to it, using it against the bear.
He inhaled deeply, the choice crystallizing in his mind. A human would go with the human. A bear would go back to the woods. And right now, he was human. He stood upright, he wore clothes, and he carried human things in his hands.
“I will be stronger with food,” he said.
“So get in the car,” she said.
“I need to eat as a man.”
She snorted. “You mean grunt and shove handfuls of pizza into your mouth?”
“With a knife and fork.”
“On pizza?” She was walking as she spoke and tugging on his arm.
He went because she was human. And she smelled nice. “It is the protocol.”
“Of course, it is.” Then her tone dropped and grew somber. “I got you, Simon. You’ll be okay. And then together, we’re going to save Vic.”
He sighed. Just because his mind was split into two pieces—human and bear—didn’t mean he’d forgotten what she wanted. Her wants had been relegated to a different part of his consciousness while he came back to being fully human. But a part of him did remember, and that was the part who answered.
“There is no saving me. Or Vic.”
She clicked the seatbelt around him. He hadn’t even realized he’d climbed into the car. “That’s bullshit, Simon. Pure drama queen bullshit.”
He turned to look her in the eye, his higher consciousness stuttering to a halt in shock. Had she just called him a drama queen? No part of that computed. So he did what he always did when something incomprehensible came at him. He listed the things he did know.
“I was a bear for ten months. You shot me five times. I shifted to human to survive and began my human protocols. You interrupted that. You risk us both by changing what you don’t understand.” He looked her in the eye. “How does that equate to being a drama queen?”
She met his gaze levelly then shrugged. “It’s just pizza and then a quick trip to Detroit.”
He knew the human response to that.
“Bullshit.”