Simon woke early, and he woke human.
Part of him was disappointed by that. Grizzly emotions were easy. He wouldn’t care that his best friend had turned into a monster or that he’d gone to sleep with the taste of Alyssa’s lust on his tongue. He’d be completely consumed with eating and rutting and have little understanding of the consequences of those actions.
Grizzly life was easy, but it couldn’t happen in Detroit. So he rolled off the couch and sniffed the air. He smelled cannabis and popcorn, and he heard the rumble of cars outside, which did not quiet the rumble of Alyssa’s snores.
She was deep asleep and he was pleased. She needed the rest and he needed the quiet time to talk to Vic. Still, it was strangely hard for him to leave her apartment. His grizzly preferred to rest near the female, watching over her sleep and protecting her home.
But the man was in charge and though watching Alyssa sleep held appeal, she’d thank him more if he figured out what was wrong with Vic. So he dressed quickly and headed down into the foul-smelling basement.
Vic had barely moved during the night. They’d left him unconscious as he sprawled against the now warped side of the cage. Sometime during the night, he’d rolled onto his side, but nothing more. And the echoing rumble of snores was pure Vic. Simon had fallen asleep to that rumble hundreds of times on deployment. Hell, it was almost soothing.
He walked over to Vic, taking his time to study his friend in detail. The monster was mostly naked, so beneath the blood, he saw patches of fur and the sharp claws on his pawlike hands. Thanks to the beating Simon had given Vic, the man’s face was swollen and disfigured, but the elongated nose was still obvious as were the sharp-cutting teeth that seemed grizzly-sized.
And that smell. God, it wasn’t as thick as it had been last night, but it was BO at its worst. Simon wondered if it might be a defense mechanism. Hard to kill the monster while puking up your guts from nausea. That’s why he hadn’t bothered to eat breakfast before coming down here. He didn’t want it coming back up from the awful wrong smell that surrounded Vic.
When he had inspected his friend’s body enough, he squatted down as close as he could to Vic’s ear. He wasn’t going inside the cage right now. That was much too dangerous, but hopefully he wouldn’t need to. Instead, he pitched his voice low and soothing.
“Vic. Vic, buddy. Time to wake up.”
He had to call a few more times, but eventually the snoring stopped as Vic snuffled and drifted up from sleep. Then came the low moan as pain must have hit. Honestly, there wasn’t much of Vic’s entire body that had escaped damage. But hopefully, they could fix that soon.
“Don’t open your eyes,” he said. In truth, only one eye could be opened. The other looked swollen shut. “I know you hurt, but we’re in a situation and I need you to keep your head.”
Vic was military, so he knew to hold it together. At least for the moment. Sure enough, the man stilled but his nostrils flared. He was awake and starting to use his senses. Which meant Simon had to get him distracted before memory kicked in.
“I need you to remember something, okay? It sounds stupid but it’s really important. Remember that bar we went to in Anchorage? You couldn’t decide between the redhead with the big boobs or the blonde with the big butt. Remember that?”
Was there a shift to Vic’s mouth? Was he smiling a little?
“Do you remember which one you picked? And what was her name? Amber? Betty?”
Vic’s mouth started to move, but it wasn’t formed right for human speech. He’d be able to do it, but it would be a struggle at first. Simon didn’t want him that aware just yet, so he rushed to stop him.
“Don’t talk. Not yet. I need you remembering. What was her name? I’ll just call her Red.” He thought his friend had gone with the boobs, but he honestly wasn’t sure. “I need you to think back on that night. Do you remember what you did with her? She took you into the ladies’ room, I know that.” That bar had two ladies’ rooms. One for the regular female customers—of which there were few—and another on the second floor for the prostitutes to use. The stalls were larger, the perfume heavier, and there was a bouncer posted right outside just in case the johns got a little too aggressive. In return, management got a cut of the girl’s price.
Suddenly he snapped his fingers.
“No wait! I remember. You picked both. Boobs first then butt. Said it was the hottest time you’d ever had. Then you came back to the table, we finished another pitcher of beer, and you went back in for seconds. Do you remember that?”
There was definitely a smile on Vic’s face now. And though he really didn’t want to look, he glanced down long enough to see that Vic’s boner was growing.
“Yeah, you remember. But it was the brunette who was most important. You tagged her last. Said she did something special to you. It was in the way she touched you. Do you remember that? What did she touch first, Vic? I need you to picture that moment. What exactly did she do to you? And then what did you do to her? The details are important, Vic. Every single detail. As if you were putting it on film. I want you to run through every single—”
His voice cut off because he could see it was working. The air near Vic got cold and there was a pale glow around his body. It started at his groin—no shock there—but rapidly expanded to Vic’s entire body. The fur receded. The bones shifted and resettled. Swelling faded along with the claws, and though the skin remained bloody in patches, Vic’s face eventually returned to normal.
Vic was a man again.
“Yeah, Vic. You got it now,” he said, his voice muted. His best friend was a shifter. No doubt about it now that he’d seen it up close. But what the hell had he shifted into? “You can open your eyes now, Vic. Whenever you’re ready.”
The man’s brown eyes blinked open. He took in his surroundings first, then locked in on Simon. It took two tries for him to speak, but eventually he did, his voice coming out rusty and thick.
“What happened?”
“What do you remember?”
Vic’s eyes narrowed on the cage walls and the bent door. “I was locked in here. You and Alyssa came down and she wouldn’t let me out of the damned cage.” His voice tightened and he pushed up on his elbows.
“Easy there. You need to stay calm.”
“Calm?” Vic mocked. “Calm? Look at this cage. What the fuck happened?”
Simon didn’t answer. He wanted to see how much his friend remembered. And true to form, Vic started answering his own question.
“I was so mad. And you were saying…You said…” His eyes widened as he looked at the bent door. “I got out and you were giving me shit. And I got…”
“What? You got what? Say it.” Simon invested his words with the bite of command.
“I got really pissed.”
“Yeah. Then—”
“Holy shit!” Vic suddenly scrambled backward. He landed on the cot with a clang and his eyes shot wide with terror. “Holy shit!” he bellowed again, obviously replaying everything in his memory. He looked at his arms and legs. He realized now that he was naked except for the tattered remains of his jeans. “What the fuck?”
“Stay calm, Vic. Adrenaline only makes it worse. Panic fuels the shift.”
Too late. BO flooded the air. Though it was noxious and nauseating, Simon didn’t move. He needed to remain a calm center for his friend or they’d never get through this.
Meanwhile, Vic’s nostrils flared. “Oh fuck, that’s me! That’s—”
“Yeah. It sucks. Now get it together.” He straightened to a stand. “That’s an order!” he barked.
The tone worked. Vic’s gaze locked on Simon’s and he breathed hard. In and out, the sound rasping through his throat. But as the seconds ticked by, the pulse in Vic’s throat visibly eased. The harsh breathing slowed. And best of all, the stench eased off.
Vic got it together.
“What is happening to me?” He slowly stood to face Simon. “What am I becoming?”
Simon pursed his lips. “You’re not becoming anything. The change has already happened to you, Vic. At least I think it’s done.” He was trying to focus on the positive here, though God knew he was making a big guess.
Vic leaned forward. “What?”
“I think your change is over. Now it’s just a matter of getting control of it.” He took a breath, then immediately regretted it for the smell. “You’re a shifter now. You change when you’re pissed off. You want to remain human? You stay calm.”
“So I’m a bear? Like you?”
No sense in lying. “You’re…your own thing, Vic. I’ve never seen the like before, but it’s not impossible to deal with. Every adolescent shifter goes through this to some degree.”
“Like this?” Vic asked. “The stink? The fur? The…” He tugged at the frayed denim. “The clothes?”
“Everything but the stink. That’s all you.”
“But…” He collapsed back on the cot, and Simon held his breath wondering if the flimsy thing would break. Even as a human, Vic was a big man. Fortunately, the cot was sturdier than it looked. “I don’t understand. Is this how it happened to you? Just…you know, out of the blue?”
“Was it really out of the blue? What were you feeling beforehand? Why’d you have Alyssa come to me? What made you think of me?”
Vic rubbed a hand over his face, but he didn’t speak. He just slumped there in defeat. Simon waited a long time, but in the end, he slipped his fingers through the chain link and gripped it tight.
“You need to talk to me, Vic. You asked me to help and I’m here, but—”
“I’m trying to remember!” Vic snapped. Except it was more like a growl as his head shot up and his mouth pulled back to show his teeth. It was an animal’s reaction to being threatened, and they both recognized it. Simon just waited. Hell, his shifter friends had done a ton worse as teens, but it frightened Vic enough that his eyes widened with panic.
Anger, shock, panic, which led to more anger. It was a cycle Simon knew well. As did every shifter. But it was a cycle that had to stop.
“Keep it together,” he growled, his own animal surging forward.
“I’m trying!”
Then Simon abruptly shot his finger forward in a determined point. “Don’t you dare stink this place up again!” It felt like an awkward gesture. He’d never wagged his finger at anyone in his life. But it was something Vic’s mother had done to him, or so he’d once told Simon. Simon mimicked it and prayed that his friend was conditioned to quiet down at that gesture.
It worked.
Vic tucked in his jaw and stared at the floor, but it didn’t last long. A moment later his gaze shot up and there was a pinched look to his brows. Worse, there was a rising stench in the air. “I can’t stop it!”
“Yes, you can,” Simon said. He was running out of ways to tell Vic the same thing. And then Alyssa’s voice cut through the air.
“You weren’t born able to speak, Vic. You weren’t potty trained and didn’t know your hand from your ass, but you learned. You formed words, used the toilet, and got control of when your hand and your ass interact.”
Both men shot looks at Alyssa as she strode into the basement. Simon noted that her eyes seemed clear and her shoulders determined. Her hair was back in that tight bun and her expression was hard. But inside, he guessed she was cut to pieces by what her brother had become. Meanwhile, Vic groaned.
“Don’t be a bitch, Lys. My hand and my ass are always in perfect sync.”
She rolled her eyes, but Simon could see relief in the gesture. Vic couldn’t be a monster while he was cracking jokes, right? And even better, the stink seemed to be clearing. A little. Which meant the anger cycle was broken and he had a chance to speak to Vic’s rational mind.
“She’s right that it’s a new body function just like walking and talking. You have to learn how to control it just like you learned—”
“Potty training,” Vic grumbled. “I got it. So when I start getting angry, I need to—”
“Think of the redhead.”
Vic’s brows narrowed. “I thought it was the brunette. You know, the one who took her time.”
Simon held up his hand to stop his friend from saying anything more. He enjoyed a good sexual exploit as much as any man, but he’d never thought of it as a spectator sport. “I just needed you to remember the details of being a man. The body, the feel, the…everything of being a man. That’s what shifted you back to human. And by the way, that’s what healed your injuries.”
Vic touched his cheek, pressing in to the cheekbones. “You beat the crap out of me.”
“You deserved it.” It was a lie. Vic hadn’t been in control. All Simon had needed to do was incapacitate him, not beat him senseless. The only one who had kept it together last night was Alyssa and he admired the hell out of her for that.
Meanwhile Vic shrugged. “Yeah.” He looked at his sister. “Sorry about…” He gestured to the damaged cage. “Everything.”
“You can fix the cage as your apology. You got yourself under control now?”
Vic groaned. “You’re always giving me more work as an apology.”
“’Cause you’re always screwing up.”
“This wasn’t my fault!”
“And yet you’re still responsible for your actions. You still have to face the consequences.”
He growled at his sister. “You’re still a bitch.”
“And you still stink.”
That pulled up him short, and his nostrils flared. So did Simon’s as he tried to compare the air quality to what it had been a moment before. Vic reacted first.
“I do not. That’s old stink.”
Alyssa arched a brow. “So you’ve got it together?”
He held up his hands palms turned outward. “I’m sure.”
“Then I guess you can learn.” She stepped forward and quickly unlocked the cage, swinging the door wide. “Go take a shower and get some clothes on. We’ve got things to do.”
“What things?” Vic asked, belatedly realizing he was standing naked in front of his sister. He tried to casually cover his important bits, but the whole thing looked awkward.
Simon took pity on the man. “We’ll discuss that when you’re showered. Go on. I’m going to figure out a way to fumigate this basement.”
Vic took the escape and fled while the two of them watched his bobbing black ass climb the stairs. But the moment he disappeared upstairs, Alyssa turned to him.
“You think he’s okay to be wandering around?”
He arched a brow. “You’re the one who let him out, not me.”
She shrugged, a guilty flush to her cheeks. “You said he could get control, and then he did. And I hated seeing him in here.” She sighed, but her gaze didn’t soften. “Now I want to know if I was being impulsive. Does Vic belong in a cage?”
Difficult question and all he had were guesses. But to suggest that Vic should remain in a cage was to say that every young shifter belonged locked up because they might lose their temper. It didn’t work that way. Easy enough to stay calm when you were holed up in a basement watching TV. The only way to learn control was to test it. Out in the real world.
“I think I need to stick close to him just in case.”
She nodded. “Fair enough.”
“But now I need more answers. Were there any symptoms before he started changing? Was he especially surly? Did he get sick or have a fever?”
“Yeah. I already told you he had the Detroit Flu about three days ago.”
“Tell me again.” As they spoke, he found a couple big fans and one little one. Alyssa helped, opening the appropriate storage areas with her key. Then it was a matter of judging how to best get air flowing through the basement.
“Two outbreaks. I caught the first. Vic the second. Hospitals were overrun with people spiking fevers. A lot of the old and young died. The CDC was called in, but mostly it was just an ugly bug. I felt crappy for days.”
“How many people got it?”
“Seemed like everyone. All at once.”
“And what did the CDC conclude?”
She snorted. “What does the government ever decide? Nothing. Or at least nothing that they’re telling us. But further investigation is warranted.” Her last sentence was done in a mocking accent and he couldn’t help but agree. “Well, if everyone got it, then it couldn’t have done this or everyone would be running around with fur.” Unless Vic had some preexisting genetic condition that the virus triggered. Maybe only an unlucky few were changed. “You and Vic are half siblings, aren’t you?”
She nodded. “Yeah. Same mother, but our dads were different.”
So Alyssa might not have the same genetic predisposition to going furry that Vic did. Maybe. Damn, he hated guessing. “We need more information.”
“Which is why we’re going to visit the Griz.”
He shook his head. “Not we. It has to be—”
She held up her hand. “You can’t leave Vic alone. And if Vic is going with you, then I’m going as back up. If my brother loses it, you need someone to help you.” She held up the Taser with a strained smile. “Have weapon, will electrocute.”
“This is not a good idea,” he said, mentally scrambling for a valid argument.
“You remember how to read yet?”
He glanced at a magazine on the top of an open storage box. Though the hot babe cover was clear enough, the printed letters meant nothing to him. Yet.
“No,” he bit out.
“You’ll get there,” she said gently. “I’ll start teaching you as soon as we finish with the Griz.”
“I know, but—”
“And you got any way to get around Detroit without me or my car?”
He had his nose. But in the soup of urban smells, picking out the scent of grizzly-shifters would be tough. He could wander for days without getting anything.
“No, but—”
“So stop fighting it. I’m coming.”
“It’s dangerous.”
She snorted. “So is running a cash business in this neighborhood. And yet here I still stand.”
He glared at her. “I don’t like it.”
She chuckled, a warm sound that was soothing even as her words irritated him. “Oh my,” she cried in a mock southern drawl. “Someone doesn’t like my choices. Whatever will I do?”
He had no answer to that, so he flicked on the fans. The fetid air started moving. If nothing else, at least he remembered how electrical fans worked. He was sure that would help enormously as he faced a criminal gang of grizzly bear-shifters…not.