Simon walked steadily outside. He needed fresh air on his face and the smell of trees. He needed clean water gurgling nearby. But most of all, he needed away from Alyssa with her chocolate-brown eyes and her tight jaw. Her shoulders were broad for a woman, but they fit her perfectly as she Tasered her brother in one breath and then begged him for help in the next. No frail flower her, but also not a woman filled with pride. She would do whatever was needed to save her brother.
He admired her for that. But that didn’t mean he could help her.
He stopped walking in the parking lot. The air here wasn’t remotely clean and the stagnant pools of water nearby smelled of urban waste. How did people live like this? Fortunately, the pollution did have one good side effect. His grizzly that had been clawing to spring free, now quieted with a nauseated grumble. It didn’t want out in this urban wasteland. It needed the silence in the UP and the cool darkness of a sky lit only by stars. Here, every neon light, every honking horn reminded him that being a man was not so great a thing.
Unfortunately, he didn’t have a choice. He had no way to get back to the UP just yet. At least not until he remembered how to access his money without being able to read. Or failing that, jack a car and drive.
So he stood in the middle of the parking lot and glared at the nearby stop sign. He knew what it was by shape and placement. Knew, too, that it read “stop.” But the shifting white lines made no sense to him unless it was the bend and curve of a very white, very strange plant. Which, of course, it wasn’t.
“Thinking about walking back to the UP?” Alyssa asked.
He hadn’t heard her come outside and her voice should have startled him. Instead, it helped him breathe. He could understand her words and when her scent hit him, he inhaled deeply.
“I have money. I could get a flight home.” It was a lie. His bear was too close to the surface to subject it to the inside of a small plane. What if it went berserk and tore out the side?
She sighed. A quick tight sound that was as much animal as human. It was the sound of a creature changing direction. And when he turned to look at her, she offered him a can of beer.
“Here,” she said. “It’s Vic’s, but no way am I letting him have this right now.”
“Alcohol would be bad for him in his condition.” Whatever monster was inside Vic, it was stirred by fury. Anything that dropped his inhibitions would be like adding fuel to the fire. “It is also prohibited for me in this protocol.”
She cocked her head to the side like a bird inspecting a possible meal. “Awful big words there, Corporal Gold. You could just say you don’t like the brand.” She set the can on the trunk of her car.
“I don’t remember if I like that kind of beer. I do remember that I have things that I must do before it is safe for anyone to be around me.”
She nodded. “Things like remember how to read?”
“Yes. Also, I must sleep and wake as a man.” He looked out past her car to the steady march of houses, some in disrepair, some sporting flowers and fresh paint. This neighborhood wasn’t thriving, but it wasn’t lost yet. “You know what I am, but you don’t understand what it means. You don’t know that I walk a razor-thin line between beast and man.” He gestured to the landscape. “If I become a bear here, how will I survive? And who will I hurt in the process?”
Her eyes widened and she swallowed. Then with a shaking hand, she grabbed the can of beer and popped the top, grimacing as she took a slug. “Vic has shit taste in beer,” she said after a moment.
Simon felt his lips lift into a smile. “That is something I remember.” He looked closer at the brand name on the can. “Vic likes his beer cheap.”
“And plentiful.” She drank some more. He found himself fascinated by the curve of her neck and the steady bob of her Adam’s apple. Female necks were not alluring to him. They were simply the column on which the head was placed. And yet, watching hers held distinct appeal. He could not figure out what he liked the most. The delicate curve, the swanlike stretch, or perhaps it was the smooth landscape of skin broken by a mole just under her jawline. It all interested him.
And then she stopped drinking. He was saddened by that until she thumbed on her phone and spoke into the receiver. “It’s me. I’m outside. Bring me some brownies.”
Her face was animated as she spoke and he was man enough now to appreciate the fullness of her lips and the crinkle beside her eyes when she smiled. She set down her phone then returned his gaze. The arch of her brow lifted her expression into quizzical and his smile widened. But when he spoke, he kept his tone neutral.
“Alcohol is not allowed in this protocol,” he said. “Cannabis is equally prohibited.”
“You’re not the only one standing here, Simon.”
He nodded in acknowledgment, but she waved the gesture aside.
“Besides, these are my brownies. Just sugar, flour, butter, and five times the normal amount of chocolate.”
He arched his brows. “That is a lot of chocolate.”
“Desperate times, desperate measures.”
They stood in silence while Malik brought out a plate of brownies. He set it down on the hood of the trunk with jittery movements and a nervous manner. As if he wasn’t sure who to be more worried about: his boss Alyssa or the monster caged downstairs. She didn’t help him. Just watched the boy with steady eyes as he delivered the dessert, seemed like he wanted to talk, but then thought better of it. A moment later, he nodded to them and went back inside.
Alyssa didn’t speak until the door had shut behind him.
“You can’t help Vic,” she said. Her tone was flat but he didn’t detect any acrimony in it. Just a statement of fact.
“I have never seen or heard of anything like what happened in there.” Just the memory of it made his bear shudder in horror. “I have no answers for you.”
“But you knew about the smell. Back in the car, you asked about the smell.”
He had. But he still couldn’t place that memory. And he sure as hell had never smelled something like that. “I have no answers,” he repeated.
She nodded as she reached for a brownie. “Know anyone who would?”
“I can ask my alpha, but he is in Gladwin and our clan has a policy of staying far away from the Detroit bears.” He shrugged half in apology. “Most believe urban shifters are crazy, bears even more so. At least dogs and cats can exist in a city. Grizzlies cannot.”
She sighed, though it might have been because she was taking a bite of her brownie. There had been a definite note of delight in the sound. A moment later, she proved that her mind was quick in picking up the ramifications of what he’d said.
“So there are cat-, dog-, and bear-shifters. You’re a bear and you’re tied to the Gladwins. There are other shifters—bears included—here in Detroit, you’re just not friendly with them.”
He nodded. Then at her gesture, he took hold of a brownie. It was cool to the touch as if it had been in the refrigerator, but the way it smelled was pure human delight. “Vic was turning into a bear,” he said, his mind cataloging the clues. “I’m sure of it. There was no part of him that looked lupine or feline.”
She stared at him a moment, her expression vaguely horrified. But she didn’t speak. Instead, she took another large bite of her brownie. He mirrored her motions, putting sugar and chocolate in his mouth as if it were a sacred act. Perhaps she had the right of it, he thought, as the taste exploded on his tongue. Rich chocolate and sugar had his human body clicking into focus. He remembered other tastes, other delights, all of them unique to man.
“This is good,” he said as he took another bite. “Perhaps I will add it to the protocol.”
She looked at him with an amused smirk. “I’m honored. My humble brownies in the mighty protocol.”
He frowned, running over her words in his head. He heard the sarcasm, but it wasn’t heavy. More like a wry comment as if to say, “So long as there’s a silver lining.”
Such practicality threw him, and he examined her even closer. She was busy licking brownie bits off her fingers and finishing off her beer. Normal actions, and yet in this situation, it seemed very strange to him.
“Why aren’t you hysterical?” he asked.
She set down her beer, her expression steady. “Would hysterics help?”
“Of course not. They never help. But they would be a normal reaction to”—he gestured toward the basement and her brother—“the situation.”
She shook her head. “If it’s not useful, then I don’t do it. But if you want to melt down, be my guest.”
He leaned against her car and folded his arms as he faced her. She was watching him with a studied casualness. As if she couldn’t care less what he was about to say and yet the animal in him recognized the taut attention she gave him. Everything might look smooth and friendly on the outside, but inside she was as focused as any predator in the animal kingdom. And that made his bear sit up and take note.
“When I left the army, I was an angry mess,” he said. “I knew it was time, but I was still furious.”
She arched a brow. Obviously, this was not what she expected him to say. “So?” she prompted when he went silent. “What happened?”
“I fought my alpha, stayed drunk, and lashed out at anyone who came close. Eventually I went to the UP where I turned into a bear and stayed that way for ten months until a pushy woman shot me and dragged me to Detroit.”
Her eyes widened but her mouth stayed stubbornly closed.
“And now, I am struggling to remember the basics of being a man. How to act, how to move, how to fucking read.” The curse slipped out and it told him how close to the ragged edge he was. His mind might be in control, but the beast—and all his fury—were frighteningly close to the surface.
He slammed his jaw shut and glared at her. This was her fault. He’d been happy as a bear. And failing that, he’d have been content in his cabin as he waited for his human side to recall the details of human survival. Here in Detroit, he was completely lost. And totally vulnerable.
“You’re getting it,” she said. “You’ve got your protocol and everything. It’ll just take time.”
He snorted. She did not understand his point, so he decided to make it excruciatingly clear. “Don’t you think that one of us should be modeling normal human behavior?”
She grimaced. “There’s nothing normal about this situation. So why should I react in a normal way?”
Because it was human? Because she was his touchstone right now and if she acted bizarrely, then how would he know how to act? Because he wanted her to be normal so he could understand her, and right now she was more mysterious to him than the stop sign he couldn’t read and the brother he couldn’t save.
And while he struggled with his thoughts, she reached out a hand. It was small and feminine, the nails close cut and without polish. When she touched his arm, he felt it all the way through to his spine. Warmth. Comfort. Human connection. It rocked him back on his heels with how wonderful it felt.
“We just need to help Vic. Then I’ll take you back to the UP. I swear.”
“I don’t know how to help Vic,” he said, and even he heard the plaintive note in his voice. He wanted to help. He wanted to because then she might touch him again. She’d withdrawn her hand the moment he snapped at her and he cursed his temper and the frustration that lay beneath it. “I am at sea in the human world right now.”
“So let me help.”
And here they were full circle. He was lost and she was not a reliable guide. He stared at her a long moment, wondering what he should say. And then he saw it. It was a small tic. Something he would never have noticed except that he was watching her so closely. But the more he looked, the larger the thing seemed.
She was breathing in quick tight pants. Like a rabbit on alert, her entire body was still, but her nostrils flared and contracted in quick succession, and it spoke of panic kept barely at bay. Her gaze might be steady, her chin lifted in defiance, but her breath told the true story.
And oddly, the knowledge that she was frightened reassured him. So he relaxed against her car and smiled. Her brows narrowed.
“What?” she demanded.
“I understand now and that makes me feel more in control.”
“You understand what? My brother?” She couldn’t disguise the note of hope in her voice.
“No,” he said gently. “That you are afraid, though you hide it. And that tells me that you are used to being in charge, used to hiding your fear as you tell others what to do.” He dipped his chin at her. “It is the mark of a good leader.”
“Awesome. Now—”
“But there is a danger, too.”
She sighed, then arched a brow. “Do tell.”
“You act like a lieutenant in a war zone without the time off to rest. I think you are always on guard, always issuing orders, always under siege.”
“So? This is Detroit. It’s not so bad in this neighborhood, but it’s not so great either.”
“So how long have you fought to control everyone and everything? How long before you break?” He gestured back toward the basement without looking at it. “Things are very bad, Alyssa. You cannot manage as you always have. I think you know that.”
“And what would you suggest I do instead?” Her voice held a heavy layer of disdain, but he ignored it.
“I think you should act as normal people would.”
Her laugh came out short and derisive. “I don’t do hysterics.”
“Then what else would be normal?”
“Booze,” she said as she slugged the last of her beer. “Brownies,” she said when she was done.
“And babes,” he finished for her, only now realizing that she was echoing Vic’s favorite saying. He could remember dozens of times when his best friend had said just those words, just that way. And when he locked eyes with Alyssa, he felt her memory of it, too. How many times had she heard it? How many times had she harassed Vic about having no ambition in his life, no drive beyond those three things? She’d certainly done it a lot when he’d visited so long ago.
And now they’d said it to each other and the echo of the old Vic was her undoing. Her eyes abruptly teared up, her breath that had been short, now choked off with a sob. And her shoulders that had been so strong beneath a lifted chin suddenly caved in.
She slammed a fist against her mouth as she tried to hold back her emotions. He reacted on instinct, his grizzly surging forward before his mind even processed what was happening. A grizzly nuzzled his distressed mate. A grizzly licked her face and petted her fur. And a grizzly pressed his face to hers and purred in a gruff kind of way.
So he did that to her. He pulled her close and stroked her hair. It was still in that tight bun, so he tugged it free and burrowed his fingers into the mass. He pressed his cheek to hers and chuffed as if the sound were perfectly normal. And he held her while she clutched his shirt and cried as if her world were crumbling.
Her sobs came from the gut, pulled from deep inside and harsh to hear. There were no cries in those guttural sounds. No feminine keening or delicate snuffles. This was pain held deep. It was a hard knot that seemed to tear out of her and to fall on his shirt as she clutched him.
It lasted a long time, but his grizzly was always patient. It didn’t measure time the way a man did. It only knew that the female was in pain, so he kept nuzzling and petting until the pain was gone. Until the sobs eased and her body shuddered against him.
In time, he realized she was speaking words. Two of them repeated over and over.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
That made no sense to either man or bear, so Simon simply nuzzled her some more and let the grizzly continue chuffing as he stroked her hair.
“I’m sorry,” she said one last time as her clenched body finally eased. She still gripped his shirt in two fists, but her body wasn’t jerking against him. So he stopped petting her and simply waited with her head cupped in one hand and the other resting against her back.
Then she eased back. Barely an inch, but it was enough for her to exhale another sentence. “I’ve made a mess of your shirt.”
“I have others.”
She pulled back farther and her fists eased. Then she wiped her eyes with the palms of her hand. “Um, hold on.”
She didn’t look up at him, but shoved a hand into her jeans pocket. Then she came up with her car fob. The locks clicked open and then a second later, the trunk unlatched. He moved the pan of brownies to the roof of the car before they could topple while she grabbed tissues from the backseat.
“Your go bag,” she said from behind the Kleenex. “It’s in the trunk.”
Right. So he could change his shirt.
He stripped out of the wet tee, folded it into a small square, then unzipped his bag. He moved by rote, his attention fully centered on her though he did not look directly at her. She was blowing her nose and throwing the tissues away. Then she did something else in the backseat of her car, though he had no idea what.
It was busywork. Something to do so that she would not have to look at him. He gave her the privacy to settle herself while he pulled out another T-shirt and pushed the dirty one into its place in the bag. A moment later, he straightened and pulled on the new shirt.
But when his head emerged, it was to see her looking at him with a steady, liquid brown gaze. Her eyes were still rimmed with red, but her expression was wistful and she extended to him a bottle of water. He took it gratefully, opening it with a swift twist, and slugging half the contents. When he finished, she was still watching him. Then she lifted a shoulder in a half shrug.
“I used to imagine what it would be like for you to hold me,” she said.
He frowned. That was not what he’d expected her to say.
“Surely you knew,” she continued. “I had the most horrible crush on you. Back when you visited.”
“You are Vic’s sister. I was staying in your house. I could never make a move on you.”
She sighed. “I know. And you have no idea how much that pissed me off.”
He looked at her and saw nostalgia in her face. It was in the tilt of her head and the swollen fullness of her lips. “I would go to bed and imagine you kissing me. And then I’d pretend all sorts of other things until we finally fell asleep in each other’s arms. Some nights, I would just skip to that part. Others…” She flashed him a quick grin. “Well, other nights, sleep wasn’t the featured activity.”
“I always thought you were beautiful.”
She snorted and brushed a hand across her face. “You never thought that. I heard you talking. You guys were all about big boobs and big butts.” She gestured gruffly to her body. “I’m average at best.”
“That was Vic, and I wasn’t talking about your body.”
She grimaced. “Thanks,” she drawled, clearly not feeling complimented.
“You never let Vic get away with his bullshit. Your mother, our CO, even the cop who pulled him over for speeding—they all let Vic get away with nonsense. I never understood it. But you nailed him for it every time.”
“That’s being smart. It had nothing to do with beauty.”
“In my world, smart is beautiful. The best kind of beauty. But if you want more, I can tell you that I find your body perfect in every way. It’s strong with muscles that know how to work. Your skin is creamy smooth and your breasts are just the right size. I dreamed about you, too. But as with anything I can’t have, I put away those dreams and refused to think about them again.”
She jerked at his words, obviously surprised. “Why can’t you have me? Because I’m Vic’s sister?”
“Because I am a beast.”
He turned away from her then. Zipped up his go bag and pulled it from the trunk. He reached up to close it, but she was there before him, pushing the metal down with a loud slam.
“A beast as in brutal to women? Or a beast like what I saw in the UP?”
“I am a grizzly bear–shifter, and you have no idea what that means.”
She shook her head. “But you guys have wives, right? You had parents, a family.”
“Many shifters mate, and my parents were raised in the shifter community, so they knew the risks.” Then he touched her cheek, turning her to look directly into his eyes. “Why do you think I went to the UP? To a place where there are miles without people.”
“You like the cold?”
“Because even among shifters, I’m considered too dangerous to mate. The bear is very, very strong in me.” He let those words hang in the air. Saw the meaning hit her in her widened eyes and the sharp intake of her breath. Then she jerked away from his touch, her gaze going back to the apartment complex and her problems there.
“I don’t even know why we’re talking about this.”
He didn’t either, but he had never fully understood the subtleties behind human communication.
“I brought you here so you could help my brother,” she continued.
“I can’t.”
“So you keep saying, but you know more than anyone else. You know he’s a…he’s like you. Sort of.”
He thought about that. Vic had shifted into a partial bear. It had been patchwork and smelly, but there were similarities. Which meant if anyone understood what was happening with Vic, it would be the shifter community.
“I’ve been out of touch for ten months. Perhaps the Detroit bears know something.”
“Great. How do I contact them?”
He looked at her. “You can’t. It must be me. And it must be in person.”
She frowned at him. “Is this a bear territory thing?”
He snorted. “It is a gangland Detroit thing.”