Chapter Eleven
Caleb rolled over in bed with a loud groan. His body felt like it had been hit with a Mack truck. Maybe it had. Had he missed that during the drug and hypnotizing part at the facility? Step one, intravenous medication administered? Step two, crazy music. Step three, beat the shit out of the prisoner. Step four, run him over with five thousand pounds of steel and wheels? Maybe. He struggled to sit up, woozy and weak. His throat was parched and scratchy, like he hadn’t had a drink in days. His vision, blurry. Hell, this was worse than his first time shifting as a kid.
“You done lazing around?” The hard female voice laughed from the other side of the room, and he focused on his cousin.
“How long have I been out, kiddo?”
Sam scowled but got up and quickly grabbed a glass of water and handed it to him. “Here. Sip slowly. You’ve been sleeping for nineteen hours.”
He choked on the bitter liquid and swallowed. “What is this shit?”
She shrugged. “Mom said to give it to you as soon as you woke up.”
“So, no coffee?”
Her grin widened, and she pulled a thermos from behind her back and handed it to him. “I snuck it in when she went out. She left an hour ago to check on a few other patients and said to give you that holistic herb, berry shit. But she didn’t say not to give you…”
Dark roast, hot and black, from the restaurant on the corner of Main street. “You remembered my favorite. Thanks.” The rich flavors slid down his throat, almost making the vile taste disappear. Almost. But it was worth it. “Next time, I pass out for a day, hook me up to an IV of this stuff, and I’ll be fine.” He meant it as a joke.
But Sam wasn’t laughing. Her shoulders tensed, and her brow furrowed as she pierced him with a glare. “We didn’t think you’d make it.”
He winced as a throbbing ache ran through his abdomen, but sat up further to assess her fully. The she-cub had aged gracefully. Most people would see only the harsh glare in her dark eyes, the flashes of emerald when she got angry, the piercings, the tattoos, the dark makeup lining her eyes and lips, the blunt haircut and bright colors in the jet-black-dyed hair. They’d see a punk or a thug or a chick with a death wish. But he saw a warrior, someone who valued life as much as she fought for it. Her heart-on-her-sleeve tank top, as it were. Sam’s eyes filled with sadness and compassion, loss, and something else. Guilt? What’d she have to feel guilty for? He’d been the one who’d almost gotten her killed—twice, now. “Come on. I’m a tough grizzly. I don’t die from gunshot wounds. Or drugs that make me act a little crazy.”
She shook her head, released a slow breath, and sat down heavily as if the past few days had zapped her energy as much as his. “It wasn’t only regular bullets. It was some funky-ass combo we’ve never seen before. Even after Mom got them out, your body wouldn’t heal. Bo had to call on his alpha strength from all our ancestors to force you to shift while you were out.”
His brother had forced him to shift? While unconscious? That took some pretty serious power, especially with someone as strong as Caleb—even out cold. The alpha could force a shift, but it zapped his strength if he did it for too long, or if the recipient was strong. And Caleb was stronger, always had been. As the older brother, Caleb should have been alpha. But he’d run away instead of accepting it. So, for Bo to force-shift Caleb, he must have expended a shit-ton of energy.
“He forced the shift five times.” She said it so quietly, he wasn’t sure he heard her right.
“What?”
She ran her fingers through her dark hair and grimaced. “Before, during, and after the bullet retrieval. We couldn’t figure out why you weren’t healing. Then Mom had to try some of her stuff on you then he forced the shift again yesterday, and this morning.”
No wonder his body ached so much. A forced shift was like pulling yourself through an inch crack in cement you’ve been wedged in. It was called forced for a reason. If the animal wasn’t ready to come or had too much power behind it, the crack became even smaller. “Is he okay?” He would never forgive himself if he hurt his brother.
“Yeah.” She came closer to sit on the edge of the bed. “He’s resting. His new mate is keeping him in bed and watching over him. Jane will call me when he wakes up, and I’ll go bring him some of this crappy drink, too. Along with coffee.” She managed a small grin.
“You’re a good bear to have around.”
She shrugged. The whatever sign from her upper body did not match the flash of pleasure in her brown eyes. Sam was softhearted. She might not seem like it, but gentle kind words always softened her and built her up.
“Any news?” He sipped his coffee and leaned his head against the headboard. Ida’s guest room was cool, but it was not as comfy as his big bed at his old house. He missed his bed. And the woman who should be sharing it with him right now. Izzy. She’d probably already left town, hauling tail as fast as she could. No way would she remain here with all this crap.
Sam shook her head. “Your guy, Stone, will be back next week. He said he needed to run down some other trails and talk to other packs. Mom pulled out all the tracking devices, and Bo healed those wounds also. I’m leaving tonight with a few of his guys to get the former prisoners to their homes. I think everyone is almost healed and ready to be returned home.”
Healed? Maybe physically. But emotionally? Never. He scowled and set the thermos down before he crushed it between his fingers. At least, the strength was coming back. No, he remembered what it had been like. The pain, agony, and sorrow of being under Bossman’s influence for the small moment of time of the killing rampage. And it didn’t include the excruciating physical pain making his head feel one breath away from exploding. It was the knowledge he had watched himself lose control, like an audience member viewing a show, but unable to do anything about it.
He’d shouted, clawed, screamed, ripped, tugged. Hell, he’d begged his bear to let him take control again. Yet, he still killed those men in an uncontrolled fit of rage. And he’d almost killed his cousin again, and his mate. And he had been one of the lucky bastards who had only been sucked into hell for a brief time. What about the ones who had been there for months, years? He shuddered and closed his eyes, willing the images of fighting with Sam out of his head. The fear in Izzy’s eyes when he had lashed out and tried to maul her, like a wrathful grizzly bear. He’d almost killed the two most special females in his life, and he’d had to watch the whole thing from the back fucking seat.
“I’m sorry,” he croaked.
“Sorry for what?” Sam’s voice sounded tinny and far away, as if from a tunnel. Great. Was this another side effect of Ida’s drink? “Letting me kick your ass at the facility? No worries.” She thumped him hard on the chest and he groaned. “I’m always happy to give you a good beatdown.”
“Your bedside manner sucks, kiddo.” He rubbed the sore spot above his heart.
She laughed, and he opened his eyes to a mischievous grin. “Yea, I’m not meant to be Florence Henderson. Deal with it.”
“Nightingale. Not Mrs. Brady.” He laughed and sat up again.
“I know. I wanted to get that stupid look off your face.”
“What look?”
“A double shot of guilt mixed with horror and loss.” She shrugged. “You were brainwashed. You couldn’t control yourself any more than Isabella could control herself when she got captured by those assholes.”
Yeah, Sam was right. The quack had done a number on both of them and made it impossible to fight back. But… “I don’t only mean the fight at the facility.”
“Okay, then humor me. What the hell made you frown like you lost your damn Barbie doll to a rogue Ninja Turtle assassination attempt?”
He growled and pinned her with a glare. “That was one time, and we were kids. For the record, Barbie was hot, and you didn’t have to cut her head off.”
Sam smirked. “I won’t tell anyone. Now, come on, be honest. What’s going on in your thick skull?”
He turned to gaze past her, out the window. Anywhere but at her. “Do you know what my trigger point was for my final transformation into lethal bad guy for the humans?” He took a deep breath and released it then continued, “They pumped me full of so many drugs throughout the night, and kept showing me gory pictures of…” He swallowed and continued, “Horrible stuff I wouldn’t want my worst enemy to see. But that wasn’t what did it. I don’t know how, but somehow, they got into my mind. Like really cracked into my vault. Ya know?” He wiped his sweaty palms on his sweatpants and continued, “They got into my memories and found my worst ones, my closest family members. After trying to overlay images of Bo, my mother, and Nissa with the bloody images from before, they…” He choked on a sob. “They tapped into a real memory.”
A firm hand gripped his shoulder, and he peered up into the eyes of his sweet younger cousin. “Keep going, I’m right here.” She sat down and continued to hold his upper arm, giving him strength.
“The old tree house past the meadow, our secret place with Bo.”
“Yeah, you guys always hated it when Nissa and I tried to trail along to your guys’ club.”
“I almost killed you.” Tears filled his eyes. “You were so little, and blood was everywhere, and I…” He covered his face with his hands and wept as the images resurfaced again. The poor, young brunette, crying in the dirt, gawking up at him like he was the scariest thing from her nightmares, his bellowed cries of rage, the scent of blood everywhere. Blood. Death. Sam in the middle of it.
“You think you hurt me?”
“I did. I remember it. My rage consumed me, and I let my grizzly loose, and I almost killed you when you were still a cub.” His whole body shook as his world crumbled around him. This was why he’d left Bear Paw. The guilt had consumed him. The fear he would once again lose control and kill someone he loved...he couldn’t take the chance, so he’d run. And then his family had lost everything only a few days later.
A hard punch to the solar plexus had him wincing, and he sucked in a wheezing breath as he opened his eyes. Sam’s eyes flashed with emerald and black. Her hands on her hips, she stared at him radiating anger.
“I’m going to punch you a few more times in the head just to make sure you’re awake enough to understand what I’m about to say, asshole.” Her words were slurred a bit by the sharp teeth protruding from her mouth. So close to shifting, yet still a warrior in human form. She took three deep measured breaths and pressed her bear back in. “You ready for some cold hard facts?”
“You can punch me again if you need to.”
“I think you’ve been hurting enough the past ten years, so I’ll hold back for now. Besides, Mom will have my hide if I hurt you too much. She put a lot of effort into getting you out of bed.”
He stifled a chuckle and waited for her to speak again.
“You’re not remembering the facts because you lost yourself to your bear for a few minutes.”
He cocked his head in confusion.
“You didn’t hurt me. Jennings Hammond had followed me to your clubhouse and tried to, um, hurt me.”
Caleb’s low growl got a flash of impatience from Sam, but she continued, “He didn’t get a chance to follow through with his intentions. You barreled into the woods a second or two after I screamed for help. I maybe had some messed-up hair and a few bruises. Nothing bad yet. But he was trying to…hurt me.” She shuddered. “Your clothes shredded to pieces around you. I’ve never seen someone shift so fast.” Her nostrils flared, and she jutted out her chin. “Your grizzly was furious and, yeah, it was out of control. Like scary out of control. But you never once came at me. Jennings shifted, too, but was no match for your rage, even though he was what, three years older than you?”
Caleb scowled. Jennings was one of his uncle’s enforcers. A young, twenty- or twenty-one-year-old punk with a chip on his shoulder.
“Well, his bear wouldn’t back down even after you gave him a chance to yield. He was too pissed off at being caught and stopped. By the way, he’d done that to two other females before you stopped him. She curled her fists and took a deep shuddering breath. “I’d never seen anything so vicious, so bloody. It scared me at the time. My father, even though he’d been a dick, had never allowed me near any fights, even play fights with other cubs. So, yeah, it scared the shit out of me when you ripped him to pieces right in front of me. I couldn’t even scream. My throat just locked up.”
Blood everywhere, pieces of fur flashed through his memories as they rapidly came back. His bear had been protecting him from these images and memories all these years, thinking they would hurt him. But Caleb thought he’d lost control, and remembering bits and pieces, thought he’d hurt his cousin, a female. The one thing you did not do was hurt a female or young.
“See? It wasn’t exactly how you thought it happened.”
“I remember the fear in your eyes when you saw me still in grizzly form.”
“Duh, yeah.” She slugged him lightly in the shoulder. “I was a traumatized tween who watched my first bear mauling after almost getting...whatever. Point is, you scared the shit out of me for a few seconds. But then I realized you would never hurt me. I even talked to you and coaxed you to shift back.”
“I don’t remember that part.”
She shrugged. “Well, it happened. Then instead of allowing me to hug you and thank you for saving my life, you took one look at the blood in my hair and around us, and you bolted. Then you were gone. I never got a chance to talk to you about it again, because you hauled ass out of town. Bo mentioned hearing from you a few times over the years, but I never realized you had so much guilt in your head. I thought you were upset about killing that fucker.”
“Sorry.”
“Well, I am, too. If you’d stayed, you could have watched me learn a whole shitload of martial arts swordplay, along with shifter fighting. I can take care of myself now, and I have you to thank for helping me.”
“Stuart didn’t do too well after hearing his favorite bear was killed, did he? Sorry about that, too.”
She shrugged. “Like I said, my dad was a dick. And when he went after me...” Sorrow filled her eyes. “I’m sorry about your mother and father.”
His mother had stopped Stuart from his rage-filled attack on Sam after blaming her for Jennings’s death. When Stuart killed Caleb’s mother accidentally, all hell had broken loose, and Stuart had been killed. Then Caleb’s father had died from a broken heart only a few days after losing his mate. It left Bear Paw without an alpha, and Nissa and Bo without parents. Caleb had not heard about all of this until the next year. And the guilt had overwhelmed him, so he vowed he would never be worthy of going back.
“We’re all good now. Things are as they should be,” Sam said and gave him a hug before pulling away with a scowl. “Except for the prison shit. And your mate.”
“She’s better off without me.” He shrugged. “She’s a royal. She’s good, kind, sweet, and a wolf. I’m a damaged bear who doesn’t even have a home anymore.”
“And you’re an idiot,” she said, rolling her eyes.
“Has anyone mentioned your bedside manner is atrocious?”
“Yep, but I’m calling it like it is. Besides, you don’t need coddling, you big baby. You need a kick in the ass.”
He raised an eyebrow, and she continued, “You are still the good, kind bear you’ve always been. Brave, strong, worthy, willing to fight to the death to protect those who need protecting. If that’s not worthy of a mate’s love, I don’t know what is.”
“I thought you didn’t like her.”
“I don’t like people I don’t trust, and I didn’t trust her. Now, I know why. She was under that whack job’s influence. I might not be a royal wolf, but I seem to have some of my mother’s ability to read things. I think Izzy’s the perfect mate for you and balances your hard edges nicely.”
“Well, it’s too late. She’ll never accept me as a mate after all I did. Like trying to kill her. Calling her a monster. Telling her she betrayed me. Besides, she’s probably hauled tail out of town.”
“She’s at Mrs. Gibbons’s place. She called three times checking on you. Why she’s still here, I don’t know. But if you really think she’s your mate, I’d go get her before she skips town.”
“You really think she would accept me after all I did? Who I am?”
Sam rolled her eyes and gave him a harsh glare. “If she doesn’t accept you for being the amazing man and strong alpha bear you are, then she doesn’t deserve you. But she’s still here. So my bet’s on her not being as oblivious as you are.”
“Thanks.”
“One more thing?”
“Yeah?”
“Take a shower before you go over. You smell like shit.”
~.~
Isabella wrapped the fluffy towel around her body and ran her fingers through her damp hair before heading into her bedroom. This bed-and-breakfast was amazing. The fox shifter who had bought and renovated it—Mrs. Gibbons—had a keen eye for decorating. With only nine rooms in the place for rent, she had gotten lucky to get one before the place filled. The bright colors in the bathroom rejuvenated her, making her wolf want to go out and howl and romp through the woods. Of course, it also could have been the painting of the wolf on the wall across from the shower. It was perfect, and it called to her. The freedom of running unencumbered by responsibilities, pushy parents, and heartache. The choice in front of her was like the paths in the picture. Two paths lay in front of the wolf. One led into the darkening woods and the other—a long, dirt road—toward the descending sun. The moonlight barely shimmering behind it. It called to her. But which path would she choose if she were that wolf? The forest promised adventure, danger, a chance to run truly wild. But the longer path widened the farther out it went. Promising more to join her pack of one. Someone else would join her on her journey. A mate? Pups? Friends? What would that be like? Though she had been surrounded by all the luxuries she could ever want, a family who loved her, and friends, it had never been real. She could forgive her parents for not finding and rescuing her. She could even forgive the horrible idea of mating her with the Scarlet Rock pack. Strong packs together, made sense.
But she didn’t want to make sense of her life. She wanted love. Freedom. And as stupid as it sounded, a grizzly bear of a male who made her laugh, pissed her off, could out-quote her in bad movies, and did not sing.
In Caleb, she had found the love and freedom she yearned for. She’d found herself.
She flung the towel onto the bathroom bar and grabbed her panties and shirt. Why was she still here? All the shifters had been brought back to Bear Paw River and healed by Ida and a friend of the bear clan. Even Caleb was reported to be back to his healthy, but normal grumpy self. But he had pushed her away, and what kind of self-deprecating female sits and wallows over love lost in the guy’s hometown? She could blame it on Zach. He’d practically begged her to stay so they could have some big meeting with Stone soon. There was still so much to talk about and do. So many other shifters to save from this terrible group. But she wasn’t part of it, was she?
Hell yes, she was part of it. She would leave first thing in the morning and find the rest of these facilities, burn them to the ground. Save her fellow shifters. But she couldn’t do it without the information from Stone. Sagging to the bed, she released a tired groan. Okay, she’d wait until later in the day tomorrow. Get the necessary information, a car, call and say hello and goodbye to her parents—not a big loss there, right?—then hit the road. On her own.
She glanced back at the picture of the wolf in the bathroom. Okay, she was taking the dark, dangerous forest path on her own after all. But she would save her fellow shifters. Being alone for the rest of her life was a small price to pay.
Scowling, she put on her fluffy socks then climbed into the huge bed. It would have been a perfect fit for her and Caleb.
She cursed and punched the pillow a few times. It didn’t make it any comfier, but it did take out a bit of frustration. She turned out the light and closed her eyes.
A tapping came at the balcony window. What was that? She was on the third floor, so it wasn’t a tree branch or a guy in a ski mask trying to kill her. Clink, clink, crash!
The glass pane shattered, and a large stone skidded on the floor in front of her.
She bolted out of bed and surged to the window, flinging the door open. “Do you have any idea what time it —” Her voice cut off when she saw the linebacker frame on the ground below peering sheepishly up at her. Now that she knew he was okay, she could leave. But his being here was only going to make it harder. “Go away, Caleb,” she growled down letting her wolf show in her eyes. “I’m trying to sleep.”
“Not anymore.” He shrugged his shoulders.
“You broke my window.”
“I’ll pay for it.”
She glanced over at the tiny stones lined up on her balcony and the pile of larger rocks by his feet and stifled a giggle. “Could you be any more cliché?”
“Unfortunately, yes.” His eyes were bright, beautiful, hopeful, as the lights in the surrounding townhomes and the rooms below hers turned on, bathing him in gold. He opened his mouth, closed it, furrowed his brow then cleared his throat loudly.
“Oh God. Whatever you’re planning to do, please don’t.”
“Hello, my baby, hello, my honey…”
She winced as his off-key bass voice filled the night.
“Hello, my ragtime girl…” he continued. As the notes went higher, his voice became louder and more strangled. “Badum badum dum duuuuuum…”
“You forgot the words already?” She couldn’t stop the giggle as she watched the poor man flail around with a rendition that would have brought American Idol to a standstill. Simon Cowell would be eff bombing and rolling his eyes through the whole thing. When Caleb mimed dancing with a pretend top hat and cane, she lost it. “Okay, okay, please stop.”
His voice cracked on another high note, and a dog howled from the next street over. Followed by two more.
“Caleb, please!” It was a cross between belly-shaking laughter and tears at the silly performance below her.
He stopped. Suddenly sober. “I am singing. For you. Badly.”
“I can hear that.”
“I’d do anything to get you back. I’ll eat tofu. Sing Britney Spears, dance ballet. All the above. Just forgive me and hear me out.”
“This is not the appropriate time for this—”
“There’s never a more appropriate time to make an ass out of yourself to get back the woman you love.”
“You’re an idiot.”
He grinned. “Yeah, but I’m your idiot.” He shrugged. “And I can still beat you at Jeopardy. Let me up, so we can talk?”
She opened her mouth to reply, but a flash of red stopped her. Mrs. Gibbons was in her bathrobe, heaving a broomstick above her head, scowling between Caleb and her. “I will smack you upside the head until my broom is blasted to smithereens if you don’t leave my patrons alone, Caleb Alexander!”
Caleb ducked, but allowed the second swat along his broad back. “A little help here?”
“Wait, Mrs. Gibbons.”
The broom stopped mid-strike, and Caleb peeked from under the bristles up at her, his eyes shining with hope.
“All right, all right. You can come up. We can talk on one condition.”
“Anything.”
“You have to promise me you won’t ever sing that song again in public.”
He laughed and gently pushed the broom away from his face. “Agreed. And I’ll pay for the window, too,” he told the angry fox shifter before walking toward the front door. He only made it a few steps before the broom went straight onto the back of his jeans.
“That’s for waking up my customers and making me hate my favorite song,” Mrs. Gibbons growled and tromped back into the bed-and-breakfast, letting Caleb in behind her.
Isabella heard the shouts of cheer as she closed the door and waited for him to come up the stairs.
A soft knock preceded his entrance. “So, can we talk?”
Who was she kidding? She was so excited he was here, healthy…uninjured. Launching into the air, she wrapped her legs around his waist and gripped his face, kissing him. “We’ve got all night to talk. I need this first.”