Simon stopped answering questions somewhere in mid-Michigan. He was more interested in separating parts of his personality and body into categories. For the animal, all was one in a gooey disorganized mess. The man hated that. Overwhelming emotions were steadily pushed down into the bear and his cage. Certainly, he missed the bear’s contentment with sunshine and green trees, but that loss was miniscule compared to the steady quieting of confusion. Bears did not travel at eighty miles per hour down a freeway, so even though the man understood cars, the animal felt nervous with it. Pushing that away helped the man take control. As did focusing on freeway signs and the symbols they contained.
By the time they hit Lansing, he recognized the golden arches of McDonald’s and the green splatter of lines that was the Starbucks mermaid. Other memories were coming back, too. He spent twenty miles remembering how a car worked from the headlights through the tailpipe and every part within and around the engine. Which meant that numbers made complete sense to him. Letters couldn’t be that far behind, right?
His companion, however, remained a mystery. A female human with that intriguing nutty, pungent scent. She was drooping with fatigue and they still had several hours to go, but he didn’t have the mental skill to probe into that mystery. So his mind went elsewhere. He had been ten months unaware of the world. The man in him itched to focus on something other than the fact that he could not read.
So he turned on her radio and tuned it to the news, but listening was a struggle. The newscaster’s voice was too different from Alyssa’s, and he had to concentrate very hard. And still little made sense until Alyssa reacted. Her body tightened and her mouth flattened into a hard line.
Which was when he decided to ask her questions.
“What is he talking about?”
“The Detroit Flu.” She glanced over at him. “It’s some hideous virus that hit the city a couple weeks ago. There have been two outbreaks so far. I got it the first time and was a little cranky for a while.” Her lips twisted into a mocking smile. “Well, crankier than my normal.” Then her expression sobered. “Vic got it in the last outbreak. That was a few days ago. And he…and well, you saw what happened. That was the video.”
Simon shook his head. “That video was not real.”
“I shot it myself—”
“He fooled you. That was makeup. Prosthetics. Vic can be very dramatic.”
“Sure, he can. But he wasn’t faking that.” Her fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “I saw the change. I saw his body go from normal to that.” She turned to look hard straight into his eyes. “I saw it.”
He believed her. There was too much fear in her for her to think anything else. And with her absolute conviction, he began to doubt. “Show me the video again.”
She pulled her phone out of her pocket and thumbed it on. A moment later, he watched as Vic screamed while staring at an arm thick with fur. Simon let the video play through. Then he played it again, stopping and starting as he tried to find evidence of trickery.
It took him a long time, and he came up empty. There were thousands of possibilities, but none that he could prove to her. So he kept silent and tried to think. Something was teasing at his memory. Something about hybrids and half-shifters, but that made no sense. No one could half shift.
“Does it smell bad when that happens?” he asked.
She shot him a startled look. “He reeks. Like the worst thing I’ve ever smelled. Why? What does that mean?”
Simon shook his head. He didn’t know. He had no idea why he’d even asked the question. It was a memory from after he’d left the military but before he’d gone to the UP. Those few weeks when he was always angry, most times drunk, and a few times asleep. A very few times, which was another reason he went bear for so long. The animal had no trouble sleeping.
“It’s like I dreamed something about this,” he said. “But I can’t remember it.”
“Well try!” she snapped.
He didn’t react to her temper. He understood she was desperate to help her brother. And he was equally annoyed with himself that he couldn’t grab hold of the memory. But that was what happened with alcohol. He’d been trying to drown out the pain of losing his place in the military. No part of him had wanted to remember anything.
“We should listen to more news,” he finally said. “Maybe there is more information.”
There wasn’t except for a brief statement that there had been only two new cases of the flu since this morning. The CDC hoped that this time the outbreak was contained. Weather news followed, then ads. Nothing relevant, though it gave Simon time to practice listening to other people, other voices. He also spent a great deal of time watching Alyssa.
Her mouth remained tight and flat. The brief flare of hope when he’d asked about Vic’s smell had died into a heavy determination. Her entire body seemed weighted down, into her seat, on the steering wheel, and even her chin angled down.
She didn’t start rubbing her fingernail back and forth over the wheel until they reached the outskirts of Detroit. Back and forth in a way that indicated anxiety. He knew it could not be him that was the cause of her nervousness. She had been more relaxed in central Michigan. Therefore, it was the approach to Detroit and what awaited them here.
“Are you afraid of Vic?” he asked. “Do you think he will be violent?” In his experience, violence was a female’s biggest threat.
“No, he wouldn’t hurt me.” She spoke the words slowly and without conviction. “Not on purpose. It’s this…um…flu or whatever. It makes him crazy.”
“What does that mean? Did he hit you?” He’d intended to speak with the same measured tempo he used as a man, but his bear surged inside him making his breath forceful and the words sharp.
She shifted her grip on the wheel, her fingers tightening as she seemed to twist against the plastic. “He didn’t touch me, but he broke a shelf.”
“That frightened you?”
She shot him a glare. “That terrified us both. His arm had changed and he started screaming that he was becoming a bear. He kept saying I had to find you. That you knew what to do.” She shuddered. “I had to Taser him.”
It took Simon a moment to remember what a Taser was, and when the image of Vic being electrified filtered through his consciousness, he had a strange reaction to it. Both horror and satisfaction shot through him, and he remained silent as he analyzed the sensation. Meanwhile, Alyssa kept talking.
“Vic would never hurt me normally. He’s a dick for sure, but he knows I’d make his life hell if he did. He’s been living in the apartment above me ever since he got home. Been studying to get his general contractor’s license, and I pay him to do repairs and stuff. There are lots of handyman jobs around the neighborhood, too, and he’s good at talking to people. If he could just follow through on what he promises without getting in over his head, he’d be amazing. But you know Vic, he’d rather talk a good game than play one. The military helped with that, so he’s better now.” Her hands twisted again. “Or he was.”
She stumbled into silence. He saw the way her throat worked as she swallowed and that her shoulders had risen higher. She was anxious, and that made him uncomfortable.
“You must be tired,” he said, stating the one conclusion he knew was correct. “Would you like me to drive?”
She turned, her brows raised. “You think you can do it?”
“If you gave me directions. I still cannot read, but I remember how an engine works.”
“Yeah. Not letting you get behind the wheel until you say you remember how to drive. Knowing how to change the oil isn’t the same thing.”
He had no argument for that, so he shifted to study their environment. Tight rows of houses, small brightly lit convenience stores, and sidewalks in varying states of disrepair. The land was alive with late spring and it sprang up as weeds between rocks and broken concrete. The trees were sparse and the air acrid as it filtered through the car vents.
“Besides, we’re almost there,” she said as she turned off the radio. A part of him had been listening to the steady flow of news, but she absorbed his attention more than anything on the radio.
It was always this way when coming back from grizzly to man. The first person he met was the one he fixated on the most. Like a touchstone from which all other meaning evolved. It usually lasted a few hours as he reoriented to the world. But he’d never been gone for ten months before. Who knew how long it would last this time.
It didn’t help that Alyssa was so damned interesting. Normally he fixated on Amanda at the pizzeria, and there just wasn’t much to her. But Alyssa had been a vibrant, fascinating girl when he’d visited two years ago. And now she was triply intriguing. Back then, she’d been busy with school and a job running a laundromat. The few nights she’d hung out with them, he’d found her funny and smart, two qualities he most liked in women. Sexy as hell, too, but as Vic’s sister, he wasn’t going there. Which meant he kept his hands to himself no matter where his fantasies had wandered.
Then he’d spent the next years listening to every Alyssa story Vic had. Night after night, especially in the boring tundra of Alaska, regaling him with stories of Alyssa saying something smart, Alyssa being brave, Alyssa getting in trouble with a boyfriend before kicking the bastard’s ass. If he hadn’t been interested in her before those months in Alaska, he sure as hell was afterward.
And now she was here with him. But she was different than he remembered and very different than the sassy, vibrant sister Vic told stories about. Now she was tense, focused, and with a dark edge to her humor. That ought to make her less appealing, but it made her more so. Life had tempered her girlish charm into steel. And nothing appealed to both bear and man like a beautiful woman who could stand up to him. Who could dig out a bullet from his side and force-cajole him into coming down to Detroit. Her choices were foolhardy, to be sure, but he had to admire the chutzpah. More than admire, his bear was ready to declare her a mate, and that was a kettle of worms he dared not open.
Meanwhile, Alyssa drove into the parking lot of a three-story apartment building. Though the blacktop was cracked with weeds, there was a brand-new carport, and she pulled into the first space. “He built that,” she said, a note of pride in her voice. “Kept him in beer and babes for a month.”
“Only a month?” he asked.
She shot him a dry look. “He’s living here rent-free.”
“You own the building?”
She flashed him a smile. “Bought it a few years ago for a song. Detroit real estate being what it is.” Then she turned to the squat rectangle structure with a fond smile. “It’s ugly, but it’s all mine. Laundromat on the first floor, apartments on two and three.” Then she gestured to the brightly lit interior. “I used to work here.”
He nodded. “I remember.”
“So when old Mr. Delgado wanted to sell, I sweet-talked him into selling everything to me.”
He’d bet everything that she had negotiated like a tigress and that they’d both loved every second of it. He would have said just that, but his senses were locking in to the city. The noise was constant, the lights dizzying even in this poorly maintained neighborhood, and the smells made his stomach churn. His bear didn’t like any of it, grumbling in his mental cage, but the man sorted through the sounds. Cars, trucks. Music from down the street. A couple arguing closer by, but not a threat. Both man and beast hated the poisonous city smells, but it wasn’t as bad as he’d feared.
Alyssa pushed through the front of the laundromat. The space was clean, the machines well maintained though aging, and the scent of chewy brownies and caramel popcorn wafted out in a sweet puff. He heard someone inside munching and words from someone else.
“Put that away,” said a young man. “You’re going to be high as a kite while you walk home.”
“But it’s so good,” muttered a woman.
Simon stepped inside and saw a young black man lounging against a counter, his frame thin, but the muscles already bulging. His face was all good-natured cheer as he shook his head at a middle-aged woman in a muumuu that hung on her moderate frame. She was a large woman who’d recently lost weight, and she shoved another handful of popcorn into her mouth before firmly shutting the lid on a brown tin. Right next to her, a dryer was going with a dizzying array of colors tumbling around inside.
“Lyssa! Good to see you,” the woman called. “I been sharing my popcorn with Malik here.”
The boy raised his clean hands and shook his head. “I ain’t touched a crumb. That’s all you, Ms. Turley.”
“Have the migraines been bad lately?” Alyssa asked as the dryer dinged and slowed.
“Plumb awful,” the woman responded as she popped the tin open again and grabbed another handful. “I could barely see to come here tonight.”
“Then you sit down and rest. Malik—”
“I’ll fold up your dresses nice and neat for you, Ms. Turley,” the boy said as he crossed to the dryer and began pulling out muumuus in a blinding array of colors and designs. Apparently, he’d done this a lot because he didn’t even blink when he shook out some very large underwear.
“Well, thank you boy. Don’t mind if—”
“And I think you should put this away for now,” Alyssa interrupted as she neatly grabbed the popcorn tin and set it out of the woman’s reach. “Save it for tomorrow.”
Which is when Simon finally remembered that scent. Cannabis on the popcorn and a baggie filled with brownies. And also from Ms. Turley’s pores. Lord, just standing near her was giving his bear a contact high.
Meanwhile, Alyssa stepped behind the counter, obviously checking on things while Malik finished with the woman’s laundry. A few minutes later, the lady was carrying a basket of muumuus and brownies out the door.
“Be careful walking home, Ms. Turley,” Malik called.
“I will,” she called back in an exuberant singsong. “I surely will.”
The door shut behind her, but Simon listened to her tuneless humming as she walked away. Then his attention was taken by Malik, who had straightened to his full height as he looked at Alyssa. “Been a busy night down the street. About average here.”
Alyssa nodded as she shut the cash register. “Looks good,” she finally said. “Any other problems?”
“No, ma’am.” The response was as sharp as a salute and Alyssa patted his arm.
“Then keep on keeping on. We’ll be downstairs.”
The boy nodded, still standing straight as an arrow as she walked through to the back of the laundromat. Simon followed a step behind watching everything as they stepped into the main hallway of the apartment building. There were only two apartments on this floor. The laundromat took up the rest. When he thought she’d go to one of the doors, she surprised him. She headed to the back staircase and down to the basement level.
“Who’s the pot dealer? Malik? You?” he asked.
“It’s legal now or mostly, so don’t give me any attitude.”
At the moment, the attitude was all hers. He was just gathering facts. “You’re not a legal dispensary.”
She shot him a look. “And I’m not dealing. Neither is Malik.” She jerked her chin toward the street. “It’s two doors down. About half my business comes from people starting laundry here then wandering down there.”
He thought about it and understood the economics of the situation. He also didn’t have any moral outrage. It was a complicated world and people did what they needed to get by. Besides, there was more than enough for him to process when they pushed into the basement floor where metal cages surrounded storage. Apartment numbers were written on small signs attached to each padlocked door, protecting boxes and old furniture in a slightly musty display.
All except one cage with the number one on it. In it was a cot and a very angry brother. Vic stood as soon as they entered, a look of fury on his face.
“What the fuck, Alyssa? You didn’t have to keep me locked up.”
She stepped onto the concrete floor and Simon slipped in beside her. She moved forward quickly, but stopped just short of his reach. “How do you feel?”
Four words but they held a wealth of meaning. Simon couldn’t understand all the undercurrents, but he guessed she was equal parts afraid of her brother and afraid for him.
“I’m fine, Lys. Really, I am.” Then his gaze caught Simon’s and relief cascaded through his features. Vic was a large man with hard, ropy muscles, but his face was as expressive as the most innocent of children. Every emotion flashed on his features and shocked relief screamed loud enough that even Simon could see it. “You came. I wasn’t sure you would.”
“You risked your sister’s life in sending her to me.”
Both Alyssa and Vic jolted at that. Vic opened his mouth to speak, but Simon didn’t give them the chance.
“And now that she knows what I am, my life is at risk. Many alphas would kill for such a transgression.” It was an exaggeration, but it wasn’t a lie. Fortunately, Carl—the new leader of the Gladwin bear clan—was known to be rational. Some even called him progressive, and among shifters, that was a rarity.
“I didn’t know, Simon.” Vic gripped the chain-link fence around his cage. “But you’re the only one who can help me. I’m changing into a monster.” His voice had tightened with fear, but Simon ignored it.
“You risked my life and hers for a lie.” He stepped right up to the fence. “You are not my friend.” He glanced over at Alyssa. “And he is a terrible brother.” With a nod to her, Simon completed his turn and began walking back to the stairs. Behind him, Vic called out.
“Wait! Simon, I’m not lying.” He rattled the edge of the cage and cursed. “Damn it, Alyssa, let me out! Simon!”
He heard the rattle of keys as Alyssa unlocked the cage. Her voice shook as she spoke. “Is he right, Vic? Is this all some kind of stunt?”
“No!” Vic’s answer was vehement, but it was Alyssa’s cry of surprise that had Simon spinning around. He caught sight of Alyssa flying backward into the next cage, propelled by the force of Vic pushing his cage open. Even more surprising, the metal frame of the door banged backward hard enough to bend, and the clang was deafening.
That was a surprise to everyone. Vic paused a moment, his eyes widening as his sister caught herself against the opposite cage and pulled herself upright. But then his attention spun back to Simon.
“Come back here!” Vic bellowed, the cry deeper than a moment before. And a scent pervaded the area. Thick, oily, and nauseating. It was nothing Simon had ever smelled before, and the word “wrong” screamed in his head.
Simon stepped back down the stairs, using the one second he had to analyze the situation. His conclusion was very simple. Something was wrong and it centered on Vic who was barreling forward, his hands clenched into fists and his face pinched tight.
“Stop right now!” Simon ordered, his voice reverberating in the concrete and metal space.
Vic didn’t stop. He grabbed Simon’s arms with unnatural strength. “Listen to me!” he growled, his breath foul.
Simon reacted immediately. He broke Vic’s hold and slammed the man back. But Vic was larger, and the solidity of his frame made it like pushing a brick wall. The man went nowhere, but at least Simon was free.
Simon ducked around to the side, his nostrils flaring. The smell was awful and it made every part of him rebel, especially his grizzly. Inside his mind, the bear fought to get out, but Simon refused. He’d been animal for too long lately. Another shift would likely be his last. He’d never come back to being a man. And even if he could, he was in the basement of a laundromat in Detroit. Someone would shoot him long before he regained control. Therefore, his grizzly remained locked away.
No problem. He had bested Vic before as a man. He would do so again now. He just had to be logical.
He ducked to the side though there wasn’t a lot of room between cages. Step one: Begin with reason.
“I’m listening, Vic. Why did you want me here?”
“You have to help me!” the man bellowed. He was still going for a grappling hold, his arms spread and his hands extended like claws. Easy to avoid assuming Simon kept well out of reach. Then Alyssa’s voice cut through the room.
“Vic, calm down. He’s right here.”
Vic swung his head around, the movement including shoulders and torso. It looked like a bear pulling his massive body to the side more than a man twisting. “Don’t talk to me, you bitch. You did this to me.”
Hell. Alyssa’s face tightened, her expression flattening down as she set her feet. “Calm down. I did what you wanted. I brought him here.”
Vic wasn’t listening. Instead, he was lumbering toward his sister and Simon watched with detached surprise as the man’s profile seemed to elongate. Maybe. It was hard to tell and no time to evaluate. But it raised enough of a question that Simon accepted the grim reality of what he had to do. If Vic was indeed turning into a bear—and his rational mind could barely fathom the concept—then Simon had to force the full change. He had to see it for himself to understand what was going on and prove that this wasn’t some elaborate, incomprehensible hoax. And the only way to do that was to push the man into a blind fury.
But first he had to get Vic’s attention.
“I’m over here, you idiot,” he taunted. “You want my help? Come and take it.”
Vic swung back, but Alyssa didn’t keep quiet. “Don’t be a fool, Simon. He’s dangerous.”
Maybe. Maybe not. But she sure as hell couldn’t defend herself from her brother. Not at his current size and strength.
“Look at me, moron,” he taunted. And when Vic turned, Simon struck. Two quick jabs to the face, hard enough to snap Vic’s head back. Also hard enough to make Simon’s hand pound. The bones of Vic’s face were hard as hell. And not shaped right.
Vic roared and charged, still going for the grappling hold. His friend had always been more of a wrestler than a boxer. Simon danced around, punching as hard as he could in rapid fire. His blows weren’t meant to take Vic down. The only safe space in this tight basement was inside Vic’s cage. He had to maneuver them there. That meant quick jabs and fast feet as he backed into the cage. Vic would follow because that’s what angry bears did. The plan was to get Vic inside the cage, then dance around to get himself out.
That was the plan and it started to work. But he hadn’t counted on the smell. Worse than a dozen terrified skunks because at least those scents were natural. This smelled like industrial waste mixed with decaying flesh. And every time he took a breath, he wanted to gag. It destroyed his timing, shorted out his oxygen, and definitely gave Vic the upper hand.
“Simon, get back! Get out of the way!”
Alyssa’s voice rang with command, but Simon had no intention of obeying. He had a plan that was working if only he could keep from choking on the stench. And all the while, Vic’s body seemed to grow bigger and a little faster. Every time Simon connected, the impact seemed to strike against harder and harder flesh. Like pounding a wall that only got stronger the more times you hit it. Or perhaps his own hands were swelling. Had he damaged them?
Jab, jab, jab. Pause. Jab, jab, jab.
He set up a rhythm, pacing everything to an internal metronome. He even measured his breathing and picked out his targets with mathematical precision. The only random element in his attack was where he put his feet. In and out of reach, forward and back, stronger, slower, all at random and according to whatever opportunities Vic gave him.
When he couldn’t punch Vic in the direction he wanted, Simon slipped into that location and lured the man forward. And step by smelly step, he drew Vic into the cage.
At least Alyssa was safely outside the cage. Now all he had to do was dance around his bloodied friend and get out. Except he hadn’t expected Vic to change. True shifters change in a kind of glow. They suck temperature from the air, pull life from the ground, some seem to take the power out of the wind. Everyone was different, but they all had a soft yellow shimmer as the body changed from one state to another, often too fast for the human eye to catch. But back when he was a kid, he’d filmed himself changing just to watch it frame by frame.
Vic did none of that. His change was instantaneous, and though there might have been a dip in temperature, Simon was too busy scrambling backward to really notice.
Vic became huge. Like grizzly bear huge, but as a man. And he had thick fur on his torso and arms, bear claws for hands, and a large mouth. And the stench was horrendous.
Simon gasped in shock as he scrambled backward, but he was inside the cage. There wasn’t anywhere to go and he banged backward into the cot. The impact caused him to suck in air, and that set off his gag reflex. He started choking, fighting to keep from vomiting while Vic roared forward. Simon’s mind was still reeling, unable to process what had happened. That was not a normal shift. Vic wasn’t a bear but he sure as hell wasn’t human, either. And while his mind stuttered and his breath choked off, Vic attacked.
Simon rolled, able to do that much despite the way his body rebelled. Inside his mind, his own grizzly surged. It needed to fight and it wanted to kill. He held it back by sheer will. He could not shift here. Not against Vic, not with Alyssa just a few feet away. It was too dangerous for all of them.
But that meant it was him against a monster double his size inside an eight-foot cage.