Authors: Kerrelyn Sparks
“She married a . . . cat?”
“A were-panther,” Shanna clarified as if it were a common daily occurrence. “They’re extremely happy. And I know you could be just as happy with Howard if you could please give him a chance.”
“It’s not that simple.” As if dating a were-bear was a simple matter. “Howard is what my family calls a berserker, and there’s a curse that has been passed down my family for centuries. According to the curse, Howard . . . might . . .” She couldn’t bring herself to say the words.
Shanna touched her shoulder. “You’re afraid he’ll hurt you. That he’ll lose control and . . .”
Elsa nodded.
Shanna squeezed her shoulder. “There was a time when I was afraid Roman would lose control and attack me. But I love him, and I’ve been blessed with a wonderful marriage and two beautiful children. Roman loves me, and he would never hurt me.”
Elsa’s eyes grew misty with tears. “You think I can trust Howard.”
“I know you can. He’s a dear, sweet man, who would never hurt you.”
Elsa nodded. She’d always felt deep down inside that she could trust him. And in her heart, she wanted to love him. She wanted to grab on to his love and never let go.
“I know it’s hard,” Shanna whispered. “But with love, sometimes you have to take a leap of faith.”
A tear ran down Elsa’s cheek. “He said he loves me.”
“Then you can believe it. You can trust him.”
Elsa nodded. “I’ll try.” When Howard returned from Alaska, she’d continue to see him. Even though he was a were-bear. Even though it meant she would fall deeper in love with him.
H
oward paced across the hotel room as if he could escape reality if he kept moving. Stuck in airports and on planes for the last several hours, he’d thought he would go crazy. His mind had raced, imagining a hundred different scenarios till he’d found one that kept him momentarily sane.
Harry was a smart guy. He would have known about the bomb. And he would have let it explode in order to fake his own death so he could continue the mission in secret. Any minute now, he would contact Howard. They would meet and have a beer like old times, laughing at the way they had fooled Rhett.
Harry hadn’t called.
And Howard was the fool. All his damned strategies he’d thought were so clever: they had gotten his best friend killed.
He clenched his fists. The bear inside him wanted to rip the hotel room to shreds. His body shimmered, demanding to shift. For the first time, he understood the power of the berserker blood that flowed through his veins. How easy it would be, how tempting it was, to let himself go berserk and destroy everything in sight.
His hands turned into bear paws with long, lethal claws. What was he doing here? Why stay in Anchorage to attend Harry’s memorial service when he should be driving to Rhett’s house so he could slaughter every werewolf he could find.
When his cell phone rang, the grating noise jerked him back to his senses. He wasn’t a berserker who went on murderous rampages. That was Elsa’s greatest fear. He couldn’t prove her right. He seized control and forced his hands back into human form.
Meanwhile, the phone had stopped ringing, so he checked the missed call. Dragon Nest Academy. He tossed the phone onto one of the beds and resumed his pacing.
After arriving in Anchorage, he had headed first to the office of
Northern Lights Sound Bites.
Harry’s friends there were devastated. They were holding a public memorial service for Harry the next afternoon. Howard suspected it would be a media circus, that the owner of the small tabloid newspaper was using Harry’s death to publicize the paper.
A small group was traveling from the Bear Claw Islands to attend the memorial service and collect the small wooden box containing what they believed to be Harry’s ashes. Howard had booked them rooms at the hotel where he was staying. And he had called the school to make sure Phil had arrived to take over his duties.
Ian MacPhie, the Vamp in charge of nighttime security, had answered, and when he’d started expressing his sympathy, Howard had hung up. He didn’t deserve sympathy. He deserved a severe beating for getting Harry involved in his stupid plan for revenge. He’d wanted to drive Rhett crazy. He’d driven him to murder.
“Idiot,” he called himself. He’d rushed off to Alaska, as if getting here quickly would somehow change the facts and make Harry still alive.
His cell phone rang again. Dragon Nest Academy. “What?” he growled into the phone.
“ ’Tis dark there now, aye?” Ian asked.
“I don’t want any damned sympathy!” Howard heard his voice echo. They’d put him on a speaker phone. “Dammit, I don’t want any company.” He started to push the button to finish the call.
“Howard!” Shanna’s voice shouted. “Don’t hang up!”
“Don’t you dare come—” He groaned when two forms materialized. Dougal and Phil.
Then Ian appeared, holding a tote bag and two duffel bags. “All right, ye can hang up now.”
Howard grunted and pocketed his phone. “Go away. I didn’t invite you here.”
“I met Harry,” Phil growled. “I’m attending the memorial service.”
“I’d like to go, too,” Dougal added.
“It’s in the afternoon,” Howard grumbled.
Dougal sighed. “Verra well.” He looked around the hotel room. “Is there a safe place here where I can do my death-sleep?”
Howard snorted. “In the bathtub, but the maid will freak out and call an ambulance.”
“Then I’ll teleport to yer grandfather’s basement,” Dougal said. “And take Ian with me.”
With a groan, Howard dragged a hand through his hair. “You don’t have to stick around.”
“Aye, we do,” Ian said. “We’re part of yer family. Just be grateful the entire school dinna come. They all wanted to.” He dropped the duffel bags on the floor. “We packed you some clothes.”
“I went through your closet and found a suit,” Phil added.
Howard swallowed hard. They were being too damned nice to him, and he didn’t deserve it.
Ian opened the tote bag. “I brought some Bleer for Dougal and me.”
“I’ll take one.” Dougal grabbed a bottle.
“And there’s a six-pack in here for you and Phil.” Ian set the regular beer on a dresser, and Phil opened a can.
“And Shanna packed this for you.” Ian passed Howard a box from the bakery in Cranville. “They picked this up after their meeting with Elsa. Shanna reports it went well.”
Did that mean Elsa had decided not to reject him? That should have lifted his spirit, but Howard felt strangely numb. He peeked inside the box. Fresh donuts and some cherry streusel. He set the box on the dresser.
“Here.” Phil passed him a beer. “What time is the memorial service?”
Howard took a sip. “One.”
“We’re verra sorry—” Dougal began.
“I don’t want to hear it!” Howard slammed his can onto the dresser and paced across the room. “I should have never involved him in my stupid scheme—”
“Bullshit,” Phil grumbled.
Howard spun to face him. “I’m telling you it was my fault.”
“And I say bullshit,” Phil growled.
Howard growled back.
“Och, ye wee beasties,” Ian said as he opened a bottle of Bleer. “Take it easy.”
“Easy?” Howard shouted. “Harry is dead because of me!”
“Get over yourself,” Phil hissed. “Harry was doing exactly what he wanted to do. I was there at the diner when we had lunch. You wanted to keep everything stealthy and secret, right?”
Howard shrugged. “So?”
“It was Harry who insisted on making it public in his paper,” Phil insisted. “And you told him to keep it anonymous, but he started putting his name on the reports. He wanted Rhett to know it was him. That was his decision, not yours.”
“Aye,” Dougal agreed. “Ye canna blame yerself, Howard.”
“From what I understand, Harry also had a good reason to hate Rhett,” Ian added. “Dinna he lose his father, too?”
Howard raked a hand through his hair. The guys were clearly trying to relieve him of any blame, but he couldn’t let himself off the hook. Harry was the one who had stayed in Alaska, while Howard had run off to a safe place. He’d thought his disappearance would keep his family safe, but he’d only succeeded in making Harry the main target of Rhett’s vengeance.
“Harry was investigating your fathers’ deaths, right?” Phil asked. “He thought Rhett’s father killed them?”
“It looks that way.” Howard related what Harry had found out.
“So the feud between yer families has been going on for a long time,” Ian concluded.
“I guess.” Howard drank some beer. “I was only four when my father died, so I don’t know the details. It could have been as simple as Rhett wanting the land that my father and Harry’s father owned.”
Phil nodded. “For a Pack Master like Bleddyn, more land means a bigger pack, which means greater power.”
Howard sat on the end of a bed. “It’s a clash of two different cultures. Werewolves always want to grow the pack, whereas were-bears want to be alone. Unfortunately, the wolves usually beat us, because they have greater numbers.”
Dougal sat on the other bed next to Phil. “This is more than a clash of cultures. The hatred between you and Rhett is personal.”
“Of course I hate him!” Howard jumped up to resume pacing. “He just killed my best friend.”
“And your girlfriend,” Phil added.
Howard snorted. Nosy bastards.
“Rhett killed yer girlfriend?” Ian sat in the desk chair. “When did that happen?”
Howard paced, remaining quiet.
Phil drank some beer. “Well, it must have happened before he was banished, which means it happened before he went off to college.”
“Ah, first love.” Dougal sighed. “Puir lass. What was her name? Was she a were-bear like you?”
“She was innocent,” Howard grumbled. “An innocent mortal who trusted me. She died because Rhett hates my guts.”
“Why does he hate you so much?” Dougal pressed.
Howard sat on the bed and leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees. How many people would die because of him? First Carly. Now Harry. Was loving him a death sentence? Wasn’t that what Elsa feared?
Howard took a deep breath. “It began when I was in high school.”
“R
hett was the quarterback for a high school team in Anchorage,” Howard began. “Since his father was Pack Master of Alaska, Rhett enjoyed the support of hundreds of werewolf minions all over the state. Those who worked in the media turned him into a star. Werewolf boys who played on other football teams let Rhett’s team win. Their loyalty to the Pack Master’s son was greater than any loyalty to a mortal school. Werewolf teachers gave him perfect grades. He could do no wrong. He was the state’s golden boy, destined for greatness.”
Phil nodded. “We heard about him in Wyoming. The rumor was he was being groomed to run for governor or senator, and, ultimately, president.”
“What went wrong?” Ian asked.
“I did.” Howard grabbed his beer and took a drink. “Harry and I were defensive linemen for the football team in Port Mishenka.”
Phil snickered. “The Port Mishenka Marmots.”
Howard arched a brow at him. “I’m looking for a fight if you want to accommodate me.”
“Enough, you two,” Dougal muttered. “Back to the story.”
Howard drank more beer. “It was our senior year, a pre-season game just for fun. Everyone was expecting the bigger team from Anchorage to slaughter the little team from nowhere. We knew we’d been selected as a scapegoat to make Rhett look good. The media was there, ready to fawn all over him.”
Dougal sat forward. “What happened?”
“Harry and I could tell his offensive linemen were all werewolves, willing to die to protect him. And of course, they realized Harry and I were were-bears. We were the only shifters on our team. The rest were mortals, who had no idea why the game was suddenly becoming so violent. Harry would attack as many linemen as possible, keeping them busy so I could barrel my way through. I sacked Rhett ten times.”
Phil chuckled. “I wish I could have seen that.”
“The werewolves in the media reported I was a vicious psychopath, but the mortal media, who didn’t care for the Bleddyns, made me into a hero.” Howard sighed. “I started getting more attention than Rhett.”
“Rhett’s father probably beat the crap out of him for that,” Phil muttered.
Howard nodded. “The media was eager to see us pitted against each other again, so they arranged for an all-star game at the end of the season. I was selected to play on one team. Rhett was named quarterback for the other. It was televised all over the state.”
“Did ye sack him again?” Ian asked.
“Twelve times. I was named MVP and won a trophy. Scholarship offers came in. I was considered a state hero.”
“And that honor was supposed to go to Rhett,” Dougal said.
“Right.” Howard shrugged. “I didn’t think about the consequences at the time. I was too excited about the future. My college expenses would be paid for. I was dating a mortal girl from high school, and I wanted to marry her. Carly was her name.”
“Did she know ye’re a were-bear?” Dougal asked.
Howard nodded. “She was okay with it. She spent a lot of time with me on Paw Island, and she liked the were-bear community. I was going to propose to her the night of the senior prom. I went to Anchorage to buy an engagement ring. While I was away, there was a full moon, and Rhett and some of his werewolf buddies went after Carly.”
“They attacked her?” Ian asked.
“They surrounded her.” Howard took a deep breath. “I assume it was Rhett who bit her. They didn’t have to do anything more than that. A simple bite, and she was lost to me forever.”
“She would become a werewolf instead of a were-bear,” Dougal said.
Howard nodded. “When I returned, I didn’t see her much. She was ill and missed a lot of school. Her parents thought she’d been bitten by a wild dog, so they took her to get shots. I never realized . . .”
He sighed. If only he had known, he could have prepared her. She could have lived. She’d be a werewolf, but she’d still be alive. “The senior prom took place in the school gym on the next full moon. I was ready to propose, when her body started wavering. She didn’t know what was happening. She ran from the school, screaming.”