Chapter 8
Tank kept one eye on Lissa as he drove, muttering every curse word he knew. She had something inside her, and he’d bet money it was a bear. From the looks of it, she had no control over it whatsoever.
She might not have ever Changed before. That happened sometimes, when someone was Turned into a shifter instead of being born one, like Tank was. They managed to survive the bite and the infusion of shifter magic, but they fought the Change so hard they suppressed their animal, which just fought harder and harder to get out.
It rarely ended well, and the longer it went on, the less chance of a happy ending. But he couldn’t let her try to Change until he had her somewhere safe and contained.
Somewhere that wasn’t in his truck in the middle of town.
He reached over to touch her, trying to reassure her animal, and she bared her teeth at him and snarled. Her eyes were glowing red and her canines were elongated.
Holy fuck. She wasn’t going to make it to the compound. Even if she only half-changed like she had last night, teeth and claws only, she was about to go berserk. He couldn’t restrain her while they were inside the truck, and he sure as hell couldn’t let her out, even if they made it to the woods. She’d hurt herself, or run off, and this would just turn into a bigger mess.
A garish sign caught his eye: The Barbecue Palace.
Food.
Meat calmed her down. Her bear wanted to kill, but if it couldn’t, it went for cooked meat.
Tank took a hard right into the parking lot and gunned it up to the drive-in microphone. He rolled down the window and started belting out orders, one eye on Lissa.
“Give me two super-size orders of beef ribs. No, make that three. And burgers, those big half-pound ones. Four. No, six. And some Coke or something. Two of them.”
After an excruciatingly long pause, the bored voice of the employee read the order back. Tank yelled “yes!” before they even gave him the total, and moved forward to the window, where he handed over his debit card.
Tank drummed his fingers nervously on the steering wheel, trying to think loud enough that Lissa could somehow hear him. Don’t shift. Don’t shift. Don’t growl. Don’t look at the teenager in the drive-through with your scary red eyes.
He could swear she was a bear, black bear maybe, but he’d never seen eyes like that on any shifter. They gave him the willies.
Finally, after what seemed like two or three years, the food was handed out the window in two huge bags. Tank pulled forward, then popped the lid on a container of ribs and handed them over to Lissa. “Here,” he said. “Eat this.”
She gave him one feral look and tore into the ribs like she hadn’t eaten in days. Hell, maybe she hadn’t, despite the money and food he’d left her. For all he knew, she was doing drugs or something and not eating.
He pulled over to the far corner of the parking lot and cut the engine. He kept the ribs and burgers coming, taking away the empty containers and replacing them with full ones. He managed to snag most of an order of ribs for himself, hoping it would steady his bear, but Lissa being all riled up riled him up as well.
Don’t shift. He didn’t even know who he was talking to this time.
He let her stuff herself until her lap was a mess of paper wrappings, cardboard takeout containers and uneaten buns. Even though she barely knew he was there, feeding her satisfied something deep inside him.
Finally she slowed down, and the glazed look faded from her eyes. She glanced over at him, as if startled to see him there, and then looked at the mess of food wrappers in her lap.
She bit her lips, like she was trying to think of something to say.
She didn’t meet his eyes, but she smelled embarrassed, and confused, and scared.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
She shrugged, and he could see her putting on her armor—the “I can take care of myself” attitude that she needed to survive. “Fine,” she said. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
He sighed. “I don’t know,” he said. “Because it’s perfectly normal to have your eyes go red, and growl at people, and eat more meat in one sitting that somebody your size should be able to eat in an entire day.”
She shrugged again, but he could smell how upset she was. “I was hungry?” she offered in a small voice.
He took a deep breath. “You’re not fine,” he said. “And I’m pretty sure I know what’s wrong with you.”
She gave a snort, but still didn’t look at him. “I doubt that.”
Slowly, carefully, he reached out and grazed his fingers over her left shoulder, right where it met her neck. “Let me see,” he said softly.
Lissa couldn’t help it. When he touched that spot, panic flared through her, and she flinched away.
His fingers froze, but he didn’t pull his hand back. “I won’t hurt you,” he said, his voice so low it was almost a whisper. “But I need to see.”
She finally managed to meet his eyes. Those soft green eyes held her gaze, and she felt something relax inside her that had been coiled up tight with fear ever since she’d first laid eyes on Brother Damien.
He moved his fingers to the collar of her t-shirt and pulled it aside. He dropped his gaze to the exposed skin.
She knew what he’d see there. A bite mark—the one Brother Damien had given her that horrible night. She could still feel his teeth deep in her neck muscle, the pain and the fear and the blood pouring out…
Tank was staring at the mark. “Who did this?” His voice was low and deadly.
“A man named Brother Damien,” she said in a small voice. She closed her eyes. Her secret was out now.
His voice got lower and more gravelly. “Did he explain to you what it meant?”
Her eyes flew open and she stared at him. How would he know what it meant? Did he know what Brother Damien had done? Why she was like this?
She said, “He told me he was the Bear God Incarnate and I was his consort. He said—he said it would make me worthy of him—that it would put the spirit of the bear in me too. He did the ritual and then he—he ripped my shirt off and he bit me. Then he tried to take the rest of my clothes off. I knew he was going to rape me and I—I fought. I got away, and I never went back.”
Tank was staring at her. “Where was this?” he demanded.
“At the cult where I used to live in Arkansas. The People of Ursus.”
Tank pulled her shirt back to cover the scar and sat back in his seat. “Fuck,” he muttered, running his fingers through his hair. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
“Yeah,” she said, looking out the windshield. “That’s pretty much what I said.”
She watched Tank out of the corner of her eye. He had his lips pressed together, as if he was trying to keep from saying something.
“You know what he did to me, don’t you,” she said. “You know why I’m like this now.”
He sighed. “Yeah.”
“Please tell me I’m not really the consort of the Bear God Incarnate. Or a zombie queen.”
Tank gave a huff of not-very-amused laughter. “No,” he said. “And, no.”
That was a relief—kind of.
“Then what?”
He shook his head. “It’s complicated.” He started the engine and put the truck in gear. “We can’t do this here,” he said. “I’m taking you home.”
He pulled out of the parking lot and turned onto the road that led out of town. As they neared the abandoned service station, Lissa started hunting around in the mess of garbage for the manila envelope that held her belongings and her paperwork. That still had to be dealt with, and she wasn’t looking forward to it.
She looked up just as they were passing the squat. Lissa turned to watch it go by, then turned back to Tank. “That was it, Hulk.”
“I know.”
“I thought you were taking me home.”
“I am,” he said. “I’m taking you home with me.”