Chapter Two
Detective Joseph Baker hated Sherlock Holmes. For some reason, people thought it was so funny to call him Sherlock just because the fictional detective lived on Baker Street. Joseph learned very early on in his career to hate Holmes with all his strength–which was quite a feat since he was as strong as two men.
Who are you calling a man?
Joseph ground his teeth. His Bear laughed; normally he didn't provoke his human side like this, but now was a special occasion. The Bear thought he had found his mate in Ana Medina and was angry at the detective for not acting on it.
But Joseph didn't want a mate. He hadn't wanted one when he was a cub, seeing grown men turn into putty when their mates walked by. He hadn't wanted one when he was a teenager and all his friends slowly drifted away from their circle, so caught up in their girlfriends that it was like the world ceased to exist for them. He just didn't want a mate, no matter how much his Bear pushed him.
He growled as he ripped into the hamburger his partner, Buck Harmon, handed to him. Buck smirked, turning to the house they were watching. It was nondescript in every way, save for the fact that inside it was the most beautiful woman Joseph had ever feasted his eyes on.
And a senator, his Bear added.
"Shut it."
"I didn't say anything. But now that you mention it, that Ana Medina, she's pretty hot."
Destroy him.
Joseph sighed.
He has no right to look at our female.
He's my best friend, Joseph thought back to his Bear. My only friend. And she is not ours or yours or anybody's. And maybe she's already married.
No ring.
Boyfriend, then.
This was one of the reasons why shifters were so feared. The voice of their Beast speaking to them was easily mistaken for schizophrenia. Not only that, but if an individual suppressed their shifter side for too long, or denied their Beast and didn't communicate with them, then they quite easily developed mental illnesses.
Ironically, many shifters did suppress their shifter sides, for fear of what the people around them would do or say, only to "prove" the stereotypes by snapping from the mental strain.
That's why men like Senator Seth Fischer were necessary. Somebody like Joseph, a loner who liked being alone, could never change people's minds. But Fischer had the charisma and personal charm to make people actually like him and listen to what he was saying.
"Hey, are you sick?" Buck nudged him. "I know you noticed how hot she was."
"Yeah." Joseph worked hard to keep the snarl from his voice. "She's hot."
He couldn’t deny that he found Ana sexually appealing. She had the type of body that women in his dreams had. Perfect in every way, with luscious curves, silky hair, and those eyes! They were the most exquisite shade of honey-brown he had ever seen. Not to mention that even after the terrifying fright she had had, she was still calm and collected in the interview. He often had an intimidating effect on people, but she had never wavered on her answers, never let him make her doubt herself.
And she is our mate, his Bear added.
Joseph finished the rest of his burger in one bite.
Buck frowned at him. "Okay, there is definitely something wrong with you. You didn't even complain about the mustard. Is it the hottie? Do you think she's involved in the shooting?"
"No."
"Because if you do, you can tell me. Your instincts are usually right about this sort of thing."
"She wasn't involved," Joseph growled. "And stop calling her 'the hottie'. She has a name, use it. With respect. And don't even think about playing your usual games with her."
Buck sat straighter. "Wow, you're in a mood. Is it that time of the month?"
"You're thinking Wolves. Bears aren't affected by the full moon, which isn't for two weeks, by the way." Joseph tried not to be so annoyed with his best friend.
Buck was the only person in the precinct who knew that Joseph was a shifter. There were no laws against shifters taking on jobs like being in the police, but there weren't any laws protecting them from being fired just because they happened to be able to turn into animals, either. Employers were given the right to fire a shifter under the Self-Preservation Act, which allowed them to terminate the employment of anybody they felt was a threat to their safety. Shifters usually classified as threats for simply being shifters.
And then, because known shifters couldn't get or keep jobs, they were categorized as lazy bums who wanted free handouts from the government. A catch 22 that was only going to get worse until things changed.
"Okay." Buck straightened. "You have to tell me what's going on now."
Joseph let out an annoyed huff, but he and Buck went way back. If there was one person who would be able to help him figure out this mess, it was his partner.
"My Bear has decided that she's my–his–mate. He won't listen to me when I say that it's not going to happen."
"Hmm. Really? I thought that it, or he," Buck corrected at Joseph's glare, "didn't like any of the girls you've been with."
"He didn't."
Buck made a noise in his throat that Joseph couldn't decipher. The shifter waited, knowing that his partner was trying to decide whether to take this thing seriously or not. Buck could get away with a lot more than anybody else. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that Buck had saved his life multiple times. Maybe it was because he hadn't freaked out or told anybody when he saw Joseph shift for the first time. Whatever it was, Joseph always went easy on him.
But if he talks about the hotness of our mate again, I'll kill him, even if you won't, his Bear warned.
That is exactly the kind of thinking that makes people want to kill us.
His Bear didn't respond.
"So…" Buck said, his voice casual. Too casual. "He thinks that Ana Medina is your mate."
"Apparently."
"Could that be because you haven't gotten laid in, what… two years now? Man's got needs, Baker. Maybe if you take Miss Medina out for a—" Buck caught the look on Joseph's face and wisely changed tactics. "Out on a non-committal date, and be very respectful towards her, then you might have that need eased a little? Could give him something else to think about, at least."
Joseph considered it. "She's in protective custody. It's against the rules to—"
The sound of an explosion cut Joseph off. A fireball enveloped a car at the other end of the block, lighting the night with red flames.
Buck's drink spilled all over the detectives. Joseph turned on the car, stomping on the gas as he headed for the safe house. All he could think about was Ana and images of her lying on the floor, her body riddled with bullet holes. His heart jumped to his throat and there was no doubt that he would do anything he needed to protect her. His Bear struggled to work its way to the surface, snarling incoherent threats.
Joseph threw open his door as soon as they were at the safe house. He sprinted up the yard towards Ana. Vaguely he realized bullets were raining down around him, but he didn't care. All he could think about was his mate.
The sound of returning gunfire made him turn. Buck was crouched behind his car door, gun in hand as he peered into the buildings around them. More gunfire. Joseph could see the flashes of light from where the shooters were. His Bear roared, rising up, wanting to take control.
"Baker, don't just stand there like an idiot!" Buck fired off two rounds. "Get in there!"
Joseph drew his weapon, firing it towards the shooters while he backed towards the house. The whistle and thud of the bullets around him was like a terrible, deadly orchestra.
And then he realized that there were gunshots coming from inside the house as well. His heart froze as he whirled. He turned just in time to see one of the cops assigned to stay with Ana and the senator emerge. A twisted expression was on his face as he aimed at Buck.
Joseph wasn't fast enough. A shot that sounded louder than all the others rang in his ears. Buck's head jerked forward, slamming into the door. He bounced backward, falling. Everything was in slow motion. The clatter of Buck's gun on the pavement resounded over the sound of the gunshots in the air. It reached deep inside of Joseph, dragging his Bear forward.
He was already half-shifted, phasing between forms that rendered him almost invisible to the naked eye. He let his Bear take the lead, feeling his conscious mind suppressed under layers of evolution and instinct.
The cop–a face Joseph recognized somewhere in the back of his mind–turned his gun on him as the Bear barreled towards him. He never had the chance to use it. There was a strangled yelp as the Bear's mouth came down on him. Joseph grinned as bone crunched and blood flowed. His Bear brought the cop down, wanting to rip him to shreds.
Ana, he thought, reminding the Bear of their mission.
The Bear abandoned the corpse, shouldering through the door. Wood splintered as he squeezed in. There were heavy, confusing scents crowding him, confusing him. Two more cops lay on the floor, bullets in their heads, but the Bear moved over them, not caring what their fates were. His only thought was the beautiful woman in this house who was in danger. His protective instincts were stronger than anything he had felt before.
He heard a shout and turned. There was a group of men going out the door. One of them was resisting. Blood dripped from his face. Joseph caught a whiff of dog. Some part of his brain realized he needed to go after him, save him—
A scream rang in his ears. Ana's scream.
Joseph ran towards the sound.