Bearly Breathing (Alpha Werebear Shifter Paranormal Romance) (22 page)

“Seriously?” Billie squeaked. “You’re that hard up for a man?”

“No.” Celia’s eyes were glazed over, her cheeks flushed, and the skin on the front of her neck prickly and goose-bumped. “I mean, yeah, I am, but I’m not going to give up everything I’ve built to try. And anyway, I doubt he’d say yes. That lynx girl of his is a smokin’ hot number. And I’m just me.”

She watched, longingly, as Orion tore into a pile of fallen tree trunks, and threw them over. They tumbled uselessly down the side of the hill, into the river. They landed with huge splashes, disturbing a couple of water birds diving for fish. But instead of locking into place, the logs just floated harmlessly toward Jamesburg.

“Wait,” Celia said, shaking her head. “What in the hell am I even talking about? Giving up everything for a big, hot, muscled-up, face-tattooed, bad ass hunk of a bear?” She was getting slightly breathless, and Billie noticed with some distress that Celia had her hand on her chest, just watching.

Billie cleared her throat forcefully, and then poked Celia with her toes.

“What?” Celia said, jolting out of her little daze. “What are we talking about?”

“I think we were talking about how to contain brother bear over there,” Billie said, smiling to herself a moment later when she realized she’d made a funny rhyme. “He’s about to wreck your tent.”

Sure enough, Orion, half-shifted, had torn a path through several of the tiny a-frame tents strewn around the camp, and was just about to sink his teeth into Celia’s.

“I spent
money
on that thing!” she shouted. “Hey! Hey asshole!” she screamed, running toward Orion as fast as her diminutive legs could carry her. She snatched a cattle prod off the fold-up table that she was using as a base of operations. The cattle prod that she used to threaten her goons wasn’t likely to do a whole lot of actual damage to someone Orion’s size, but it would still hurt like hell.

She stomped right up to him, and when she was about three feet away, he swung his huge head in her direction, stared right in her eyes and unleashed the raunchiest smelling, loudest roar she’d ever heard or smelled.

Celia winced, wrinkling her nose and fake gagging in protest. He took a swing at her, but Celia rolled backwards and sprung up, cattle prod at the ready.

She dug the probe end right into Orion’s thigh, and gave him full juice. The jolt of electricity blasted out of the red and white cylinder onto which Celia had painted “BEHAVIORIST” on the side.

The smell of singeing fur caught her nose and made Celia recoil again, but then gave her a grim smile of satisfaction. Orion backed up, reeling in pain, and tried to go at her again, with another swipe of his head, hoping to catch her with those massive, dagger like teeth.

At any other time, she would’ve been no match for him, but with the drugs coursing through his system, his movements were sloppy and halting. She could see that his eyes weren’t really focusing, his muscles not responding the way they normally would.

Also he literally had his hands tied behind his back.

“Suck it,” Celia said, jamming the prod up underneath Orion’s chin and blasting him square in the face with enough jazz to fry a herd of squirrels. On a giant bear? It sizzled, it popped, and it even crackled a little.

Orion reeled slightly, and looked like he was about to take another shot at Celia, but then he went rigid.

It was like someone hit a stopwatch and he was forced to freeze in place. Every muscle in his body went taut and the same time, and then he just collapsed in a big, furry heap. Celia froze in place, expecting it to be some kind of a ruse.

After a second, she let out a triumphant “ha!”

Billie wandered up and poked Orion with her toe. “Is he dead?”

“No,” Celia said. “He’s breathing, stupid.”

Billie nodded, not even insulted. She was too dumbfounded that
Celia Maynard
had just beaten up a giant bear, albeit with a little electrical assistance, to care much about being called stupid. She’d been called worse, anyway.

Celia jabbed the unconscious giant with her magic bear-killing wand, and smiled with grim satisfaction. “Yeah,” she said, more to herself than anyone else. “I
am
a badass. I totally ruined him. Did you see that?” she grabbed a passing squirrel and held him up. “You saw that right? You totally saw how badass I am. Right?”

“Yep!” he squeaked. “You are a
huge
badass, boss!”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Celia said. “Celia Maynard. Bad-Ass Beaver. I need to get a wallet made. C-M-B-A-B. That’d be awesome, huh?”

Thoroughly impressed with herself, she climbed on top of him and stood, triumphant, atop the fallen mountain at her feet. “Get this lump out of here, boys!” she said. “And hurry the hell up. We’ve got a town to flood!”

Billie watched her boss, the slightly insane, slightly brilliant, but... okay, mostly insane, Celia Maynard, hop down off her fallen foe, slapping her cattle prod against her palm. Something halfway between resentment and amazement welled up inside her. She didn’t like hurting people, Billie didn’t. Really, it wasn’t how she was, not at all. But Celia was just so powerful, so commanding, so utterly badass, that Billie found herself being dragged along by the nose. And anyway, it was all for a good reason.

The best reason – protecting their home. The little forest folk of Jamesburg. Not everyone was a bear or a lion or a lynx or a... or a hedgehog.

Maybe there
was
another way, she thought as the squirrels slid a tarp underneath Orion with a great deal of effort, and then rolled him up in the plastic sheet and dragged him off to a holding area. Maybe there was some other way to get through to people that...

“Nah,” she said under her breath. “Celia’s right. Celia’s always right. She’s the brains. I shouldn’t be thinking so much. It’ll get me into trouble, like she always says.”

Overhearing her, unbeknownst to Billie, Celia grinned, and nodded slowly.

Four squirrels wielding a very large bow saw began working on another tree. They’d lost five of them to Orion’s temper tantrum, but after that? Two more big ones and they’d be done. Every single one of Jamesburg’s five rivers would be dammed.

And then? All it would take was a little waiting. A little time for the backed up rivers to swell to bursting.

She smiled, thinking about pulling five plugs at once, and watching the tidal wave rush Jamesburg’s square, inundating the courthouse and drowning that prick of an alpha.

“I told you, Erik Danniken,” she said as she ground her teeth. “I told you and you didn’t listen. But now? Now, you’ll listen. Right after you drown to death, you’ll listen.”

“Celia?” Billie asked. “If he’s drowned, how can he—”

Celia glared.

Billie clapped her mouth shut tight.

Celia smiled.

The world was as it should be.

––––––––

M
y toes gripped the grass.

I crouched down low, imagining someone holding a gun beside me.

Bang!

Exploding upward, my muscles flared to life. My legs pistoning against the ground, and my half-claw, half-toes digging into the dirt gave me speed. Along the side of the forest facing my house, I dashed to the end of the grassy run I’d built, and then bent over forward with my hands on my knees.

Sweat dripped down my face, around my neck, and down my belly. The wet spots where sweat soaked into my shorts clung to my skin.

I let out a grunt when I stood back up, and unbunched a really unflattering, hitched up boob from my sports bra.

Bending all the way to the ground, I raked my fingers through the grass and twisted from side to side.

Then I did it all over again.

Back and forth, back and forth, until the world was a blur and the ache in my legs took the place of the dull throb in my chest.

Two days.

Two days ago, the man I thought would be the one to take me places I never dreamed. The one I thought was mine forever... we made love and then he vanished.

Just... gone.

Not a call, nothing. He left a note that made me cry because of how raw and vulnerable and open he was – things I had been with someone who never gave it back to me, someone who made me feel like a shit-heel for wanting to be close to someone else. I was always pretty sure that Liam hated me from about the second or third year we were together, but just never admitted it to himself.

I knew Orion had his own trouble. His heart wasn’t whole, but I thought we could fix each other. I thought I’d finally found someone who could help me face my own fears while he faced his.

But then, I woke up, and he was gone, with nothing but a letter in his place. A letter with my mother’s earring underneath.

I felt terrible for being angry. I
was
worried about him – worried sick to my stomach actually – but the note was so vague that finding him – if he even wanted me to – was a lost hope. Like I always did before I lost it, I pinched the earring between my thumb and forefinger, tugging at it nervously.

Seeing that little stud had warmed my heart. It had been so unbelievable to find it sitting there. I guessed that was what he’d been on about with all the hints about having something to give me.

But none of that made him vanishing any easier to take.

“Shit,” I whispered, grabbing my water jug and taking a big, long slug. I let some of it run down my chin, wetting my shirt, just to cool off a little. Then I poured some over my face and shook it off. “I can’t let this kill me. Liam ruined me for a decade. That’s not going to happen again.”

It wasn’t even
really
anger I felt, not deep down. It was a mixture of betrayal, confusion, and fear that something terrible had happened. It was almost like I was convincing myself to be mad at him
because
I couldn’t handle the idea that he might have gotten himself hurt, or worse.

I’m... not very good at being helpless.

But that’s exactly what I was right then.

Running my hands through my hair, I stared up into the blue-gray morning for a second, as a thick, puffy thunderhead rolled over the mountains.
Great, a storm to match my mood. Better get in enough sprints to wear myself raged so I don’t sit around and just fret all damn day.

Weekends were the hardest for me. Monday through Friday I had Dean, Malia, and all the cubs to car for. Just thinking about the panda triplets, the raccoons, and those two big, squishy baby bears got my heart thumping.

Of course, was it really me taking care of them? Mechanically, I guess, yeah, but deep down I think it was the other way.

I squatted down, then stretched one leg out in front, then the other. Again I imagined the guy with the gun.

Bang!

It didn’t solve much, but the running kept me sane.

*

P
hrases like ‘storm of the century’ lose most of their meaning when you live in a place where magical storms and angry genies and mopey unicorns are things that actually exist, but when Whit Whitman said it this time, I sorta had to agree.

The clouds roiling on the horizon were just about the same shade of silver as Whit’s impeccably manicured hair, and they had dark gray streaks pouring out of them. Heavy, heavy rain was coming.

I chuckled, thinking about Whit’s underling, Jake Jackson, and how he had actually said that Whit’s voice was sex to his ears, and somehow kept a straight face. I shook my head, grateful for a tiny break from the grinding agony in my brain.

“This storm,” Whit said, with his gravelly gravitas, “this one will be big. We’ve seen some rains this season already, Jamesburg, of course, but nothing like this. Thanks for the report, Jake, thanks very much. In other closing news, the rivers remain low, though I’m sure that after this storm, that won’t continue to be the case. I can only hope the rain comes slowly enough that the rivers don’t overflow. Jamesburg has a wonderful gutter system, but... I’m not entirely sure even our incredible city management team could hope to contain five rivers flooding at once. This is Whit Whitman, signing out. Stay safe, Jamesburg.”

He stared at the camera for a few seconds longer than he normally did before the cameras cut off. His normally calm, hyper-reasonable demeanor cracked slightly, although I’m sure he didn’t realize he was still being watched. Whit pulled the corner of his mustache between his lips and gnawed lightly. He looked over to the left, like someone was calling to him from off camera, and frowned almost imperceptibly.

Finally, the cameras cut, and a commercial for life insurance replaced the worried news anchor. Glorious irony? Why yes, I think so.

Wedged between my ass and the couch, my phone buzzed urgently. My heart skipped a beat as I pulled it out of my back pocket, but then I remembered Orion had left his phone – the one I had to force him to buy in the first place – on the nightstand. It was Dean, anyway.

“Hey,” I said, sounding far more deflated than I meant. “What’s up?”

“No word from Orion yet?” he asked. Dean sounded almost as nervous as I was. “You must be worried.”

I laughed hollowly. “That’s an understatement. I can’t believe he just
left
like that. After everything we... I mean, I sound like an asshole, but I thought we really had something.”

“You
do
, Clea,” Dean said. “I’ve never seen anyone so protective, so inflamed and taken with someone else as he is. I mean, I hardly know the guy and I can see his emotions like they were a big neon sign that says ‘I am stupidly in love with this woman’ and then has an arrow pointing toward you. If he said he had something to take care of, then he does.”

“I know,” I said, looking down at my wriggling toes. “I feel terrible for thinking the things I do, but...”

“No, no,” Dean said. I could see him putting his hand up in a ‘stop’ gesture, and shaking his head even though he was at home, four miles away. He always gesticulated wildly on the phone. That was one of the first things we found out we had in common. “Liam screwed you over. Like, in a bad,
bad
way. I’d be more suspicious if you weren’t thinking Orion got scared or bored or whatever and took off. But I’m telling you – you’re a terrible judge of character. I think we can agree on that, right?”