Bear with Me (Bear Mountain Patrol Series Book 1) (2 page)

Chapter 2

“This is a no-holds barred fight,” Louie said to Tag and Gold. Both men needed a safe environment away from human eyes to release their beasts. Tag used Louie’s recreational facility once and lately, twice a month to spar with other duals. The large building looked like a barn on the outside but inside, Louie used state-of-the-art equipment for dual-natured and charged accordingly. The air was rich with the scents of hay, used as a buffer against the wall and stale sweat.

“Got it,” Tag said scratching his shoulder. His skin itched from the delayed change. But Louie wouldn’t rush and if he couldn’t control his beast, Louie and his security members would escort him outside. That was something Tag couldn’t afford.

“Listen to me, Tag!” Louie snapped.

Tag stopped scratching and met Louie’s gaze. “Yeah.” He’d heard the same speech two weeks ago and two weeks before that and the month before that. Why couldn’t the old man stop yapping and let them go at each other?

Louie sighed. “Jackson from BMP was here the other day. Someone reported your night wanderings in the mountains… a grizzly was seen.” He looked between Tag and Gold. Since Gold lived south in Pueblo and was the only other grizzly in the state, there was no question who BMP discussed. “There are no grizzlies in the mountains, duals or naturals, just black bears, as far as humans are concerned, you know that.”

Tag continued staring at Louie.

Jackson was a dedicated, determined admin in charge of this district of the BMP and had known Tag’s father personally. Tag had talked to the man on numerous occasions, listened respectfully to his reasons why Tag should join the force, heard the benefits and how much BMP needed a young man with his skills. Although Jackson assured him things were handled differently in this district, than the one his father worked, Tag’s answer was the same - not interested. The bullshit of BMP went deep and he wanted nothing to do with them. The darkness of the mountains called to him, eased his restless spirit and kept Grizzle and his secrets quiet.

None of that mattered to the Bear Mountain Patrol. Their primary directive: to keep humans unaware of the dual-natured bears who lived among them. Which meant any bear continually seen by a human was targeted for discipline as a reminder of the rule.

His father had understood the unique challenge of keeping Grizzle, the pet name for their beasts, chained so that the human side ruled. Until mated, Grizzle liked the dark and didn’t care about rules. When Grizzle wanted something, it didn’t like being denied, which caused many sleepless nights. For as long as he could recall, his dad wanted him to join BMP, claimed it would soothe his beast, help shape him into a man. Either that or find his mate, both – according to his father – would accomplish the same goal.

Right after graduating University, Tag went to work as a mercenary. His father’s disappointment almost crippled him. Young, brash, eager to make a name for himself, each assignment he skated close to the line using his extra sensibilities to give him an edge in combat. Within two years his codename
Dragon
, meant
warrior of death
in the circles he worked. He commanded top fees and built a sterling reputation on his own away from his father’s shadow. Many nights he regretted his decision not to work alongside his dad and questioned if he had, would his father still be alive.

At 25, he was still considered a cub by grizzly standards. Most of his friends from school still lived at home. Living on his own away from home caused quite a stir among his community and he’d been labeled rebellious for breaking tradition. So far he’d denied his mom’s constant requests to return to their homestead in Montana and reunite with the family. Since he couldn’t explain why, he made up colorful excuses.

Louie ran his fingers through his thick salt and pepper hair. “Whatever’s been eating at you for the past coupla years, you need to make peace with it before they string you up. I’m worried about you.”

Tag nodded so Louie would stop talking. If he could purge the demons riding him, he wouldn’t be in the mountains on moonless nights. But his mother and sisters were safe and he couldn’t take vengeance for his father’s death, not yet. Until then, he’d release the building tension the best he could, in this makeshift ring and wandering the mountains.

Louie gave him one last look then backed toward the door, leaving Tag and Gold alone in the huge barn with nothing but sawdust beneath their feet and bales of hay.

“Shift.”

Gold flowed into a large grizzly as well, although not as tall as Tag and charged. Gold, a successful accountant, never visited the mountains. He and wife Cyndy, who was also a bear, raised their four kids in a nice suburban community, passing for humans without a hitch. Whenever Tag or Gold needed to ease their aggressive natures, they met at Louie’s.

Tag spun and knocked Gold in the back, sending the 500-pound bear forward a couple of steps. Gold turned swinging. Tag ducked, surprised. Gold wasn’t a fighter. Normally, it took a while for him to relinquish control to his beast. Obviously Tag wasn’t the only one who needed to break wild for a few hours.

He released Grizzle.

Grizzle climbed the hay and leapt across the room, fully enjoying the freedom of being in charge, even if there were limits. Gold wasn’t an enemy, not prey, no hunting. He was a friend, they would fight but not to the death.

An hour and a half later, fur flying, claw-tips gleaming red, Tag and Gold threw punches, rolled and wrestled on the ground over and over, until Grizzle grunted in pleasure or exhaustion. Tag was no longer sure.

Jumping 20 feet in the air, Tag landed on the top of the stacked cubes of hay and jumped down to grab Gold. Gold leapt out the way and rolled to the right. Tag was on him in a second and lifted Gold for a body slam.

“Enough,” Gold said as he returned to his human form. “My wife isn’t going to be happy that I’ll be too tired to pleasure her tonight. The least I can do is minimize the bruising.”

Tag put him down and also returned to human. “By the time you get home, your randy ass will be ready to work on cub number five.” The bruises on both of them were healing as they headed toward the showers.

Gold chuckled. “Probably.” He paused. “She wants to move back to Utah to be near her parents. Every time I walk in the door, she finds a way to mention going home.”

“Well, you did turn her in Utah,” Tag reminded him. “You’re one of the few bears I know with a successful human transformation. Plus you have cubs. That’s major.” Although Tag had never met a human female who attracted him enough to consider a future, he admired Gold and Cyndy for beating the odds. Bears weren’t known for their fidelity. Either or both partner could seek sexual satisfaction outside the relationship without destroying the bond. Gold and Cyndy never went that route. Tag wondered if it was because she had been human.

“Turning a human woman you love with every fiber of your being is easy; living without her is impossible. At the end of the day, it’s not the species that matters, it’s the heart.” Gold started showering.

“You sound like a fucking commercial,” Tag muttered.

“Yeah, good thing I know you’ll never forget it with that mind trap of yours. Once you see or hear something, you never forget.” Gold laughed.

“Want to go another round?” Tag challenged, frowning. He hated when Gold teased him about his peculiarities and his friend knew it.

Gold laughed harder. “Nope. I’m good, thanks for the kind offer.”

Relaxed, Tag waved goodbye, left the shower and dressed; he had animals and bees to tend. The solitude of his 30 acres and 2,500 square foot home nestled in the Colorado Mountains called to him.

“See ya next time,” he called to his friend.

Chapter 3

Tyra and Jewel had fallen asleep after their movie marathon but after that conversation with her mom, Camilla couldn’t settle and had to get some air, clear her mind. After grabbing her glasses and matching lightweight peach colored hoodie she left.

Inhaling, she deeply breathed in the crisp morning air in the small town of Millen near the Colorado foothills. Sunlight crested the mountains, bathing the tops in a shimmering glow. Red, yellow and lavender wild flowers waved good morning in between the small yard and walkway of the condo.

Cinnamon and vanilla aromas from the nearby bakery danced in the air tempting her to grab a Danish now rather than later. She’d met her one and only college boyfriend at that bakery on the corner. Closing her eyes, she shunned the memories of those disastrous two months. As Tyra said on many nights as they ate delicious donuts and pastries from the place, “he wasn’t worthy.”

A hodgepodge of old and new buildings, residential and small shops lined the street. The high rent discouraged many students from living in the neighborhood although the collection of cafes and the large park made the area attractive for informal gatherings.

Camilla looked up behind her to make sure she hadn’t left any lights on when she dressed to go for a brisk walk. Lifting her arms in the air, she stretched on the cobblestone sidewalk in front of the condo building where she lived. The talk with mama hadn’t gone the way she’d planned. Tyra was right; Mama wanted her to return home to finish grad school. She even hinted at buying Camilla a new car, with the current gizmos for those visually challenged, to help with the commute. As if she wanted to live at home again! One queen per castle her mom always said and Camilla looked forward to the fall when she’d be queen in her own place. She released a long sigh remembering the disastrous turn the conversation had taken when she asserted her right to make her own decisions.

“Don’t forget who’s paying for you to go to that fancy private school, young lady,” her mom had said.

Tempted to remind her mom that her father left the money for her college education, Camilla refrained. Instead she played peacemaker, which meant she said what was needed to bring her mom into a better mood. “I appreciate your help, Mom. But I need to do this, the chemistry program here is highly accredited, the instructors have national recognition. In the long run, BCC University is the better deal.” She added a hefty dose of certainty and confidence in her tone. It must’ve worked since mama backed off.

“I’ve got some fun things planned for us when you get here, there’s a new jazz club I read about and maybe we can go there.” And on it went, all the places Mama heard about but refused to go with her friends. She wanted to take her daughter. Show off her college graduated daughter who nobody ever thought would get that far, more like but Camilla kept quiet.

Bending at the waist, she touched her toes and her cell hit the ground. Scared she damaged it, she brought it close to her face to inspect the chipped casing and noticed a missed call from her mom. It must’ve come while she had been in the bathroom. A single groan escaped at the thought of another long-winded conversation. Not today, she wasn’t a masochist and it got harder and harder to placate her mom.

“Gotta stretch, loosen these muscles,” she murmured going into her warm-up and looking down the sidewalk at the approaching runners. In elementary school she’d enjoyed running and begged to play sports. Once she’d been diagnosed with degenerating myopia, the risk of her retina detaching was too great. Both her doctor and parents said no to any activities in which she could be jarred or hit, even running. Since she moved to Colorado, she improvised with a brisk walk around the track across the street. Mama would be pissed, but she wasn’t here.

Earlier, Tyra proclaimed Camilla as “video queen.” The bittersweet title hit a sore spot that hadn’t healed. Movies became the world she escape and live vicariously through. In reality she’d never handle a gun or defeat the bad guys to win the day like Lara Croft, her personal favorite. But in her dreams she kicked ass, handled a gun like a pro and lived dangerously while traveling to exotic locations around the world.

Many days her dad lay in bed unable to walk. Movies and movie trivia became their passion. After the first eye surgery, images blurred so badly she couldn’t make them out. Daddy would tell her the action on the screen to match the sounds. Videos kept him alert and gave him something to look forward to as his disease-riddled body continued to fail him. When her eyes healed to the point glasses or contacts helped, she spent hours online searching for titles to keep his interest. Some days she wondered who helped who. Daddy had been the only person who understood her frustration over her limitations in life and encouraged her to dream and never stop hoping for more.

Ryan’s mom was the only sibling of her father not impacted with vision challenges allowing him to enter the military, something she’d always wanted. When her father had been in his early twenties, he’d been a gun enthusiast and had taken her to gun shows and the firing range. Contrary to his wife’s wishes, he taught his only child how to shoot and care for her weapons. Not that he allowed her to pull the trigger, he’d feared her retina detaching from the kickback, but she recalled how normal, holding the gun made her feel.

Warming up as the group of runners approached she tightened her ponytail, patted her pocket, felt her phone and heard the jingle of her keys. An empty beer can clattered along the pavement doing a jig as the wind picked up.

“I’m smart, young, and gorgeous and one day will be a world-renowned doctor in the field of genetics,” she murmured, eyeing the runners.

Looking up at the clear sky, she recalled the weatherman said it would rain later today. After the run, she’d stop and grab croissants for brunch. Maybe they’d skip Maxi’s and do mani-pedi’s for each other.

First things first. She had put off walking for weeks and missed the adrenaline rush. Today she would return to her routine starting with an early morning walk, food then mindless fun with her girls. If that didn’t dispel the butterflies in her tummy, she’d do more journaling. Lately, writing jumbled emotions was the only thing that calmed the yearning in her chest. What exactly she yearned for, she had no idea.

Camilla wiped her palms down her leg and filed in behind a short, guy with earplugs at the end of the line. They jogged, she moved side to side in place, as they stopped at the corner, waited for the cars to pass then headed across the street to the park. Moving to the side she looked at the others in the group and smiled. This was what she needed, fresh air, wide open spaces, the feel of the earth beneath her feet. Her heartbeat increased as she walked across the street.

“Morning,” she said to a shorter woman who appeared to be in her late sixties.

“Nice day for a run,” the woman said as she passed by at a fast clip.

“Wow, I’m really out of shape,” Camilla murmured watching the older woman accelerate and pass most of the others. Heart pounding, she continued around the track, keeping her pace brisk and now wishing she had gone to bed.

The bottom of her feet throbbed each time she made contact with the asphalt. Her chest slammed so hard in her chest she slowed from her brisk walk and moved to the further side of the track without walking on the blades of grass. Then stopped at one of the outdoor fitness stations and sat on the bench which had some other function she didn’t bother reading. Breathing under control, she looked through the trees and along the curving trail at the next fitness station. “I need to make it around the track at least once then go to bed. This wasn’t my best idea, running when I haven’t had any sleep.” Struggling, she stood and walked the asphalt, passed the next fitness station and ignored the runners who passed her by.

When she reached the part of the trail where she could see her building through the large trees, her heart sang. Finally she’d be rid of the bugs. Wiping away sweat and swatting the pesky things, she picked up her pace as she left the track and entered the park, headed for home.

“Yes, you got this.” Her heartbeat raced and her chest burned as she wished she was in bed already.  A tall, hunky guy passed her and looked back.

Pushing her glasses up her nose, she glanced over her shoulder at his tight cheeks and smiled. “One day,” she murmured. “
One day I’ll find him
.” The thought ran on a loop as she allowed herself to dream. The epitome of tall, dark, handsome with a dash of badass, he would cherish and love her. Without prompting, his face rose blinding her to the park and her destination as she walked toward home on autopilot.

For years, she saw him on the movie set in her mind in various roles. Even when someone else shared her bed, like a ghost his presence lingered near. Puzzled, Camilla balled her fist, quickened her pace and tried to outrun the irritating, persistent, presence of her… what? High school crush? Hell she was 23 when she met him and that had been the only time. Why did Tag’s memory linger through the years? If anyone could answer that one, she’d give them $1000 bucks so she could move on with her life.

Ryan, her cousin, had stopped by the house to pick up something he’d left from a previous visit. Strange but she remembered focusing on his black half boots on Mama’s white tile floors. To this day Camilla wondered if Mama hadn’t enforced her no shoes inside the house rule because Ryan had brought a guest. Wearing a pair of old, thick, comfortable glasses, her hair up in a ponytail and a pair of shorts and tank top, Camilla had been listening to Ryan’s advice on dating in college. Most of it didn’t apply to her anyway, but he liked calling her beautiful and she enjoyed hearing it. Ryan patted her back and pointed.

“Tag, meet my cousin, Camilla.” He pushed her shoulders lightly, she stepped back and stumbled. Her glasses slid down her nose. A peculiar fragrance of earth, oranges and something else she couldn’t define filled the air, circling around her head. Wanting more, she lifted her chin so her nose pointed upward.

A hundred camera flashes clicked in her mind, bright and blinding. Her heart clutched, and then raced. Her throat tightened, as one thought grabbed hold of her.
Had her retina finally detached after all this time?
God, please, no.
Head bowed, she blinked to clear her vision as Ryan turned her to the right.

“Hello, Camilla.” Tag’s voice, deep, dark and sinfully decadent brushed against her.

The clicks in her mind stopped as if they’d found a focus point. Goose bumps raced up and down her arms, chest and belly from the timbre of his voice. Vision cleared, she saw better than she had in years. The man wasn’t pretty, tall, sharp nose, square jaw and short brown hair. He looked like a soldier straight from the movies, tall, muscular, but his eyes… a piercing brown that offered warmth, safety and a held a smidgeon of pain.

Skin prickling, she couldn’t stop moving forward if she tried. She had no idea why she took his hand, it hadn’t been outstretched, but the need to touch, hell to climb the tall man like a tree and rub all over him, throbbed like a base drum, through her entire body.

Unable to speak, she ran her thumb over his knuckles, and then turned his large hand over and stroked his palm. With each stroke, her heart beat increased. Thoughts, clear one second scattered the next. Heat chased cold as her body temperature flipped repeatedly as his presence threw it into flux. His intoxicating scent curled tighter around her head. She weaved to the side from its potency.

“Camilla?”

Ryan’s voice echoed in her mind as she tried to break the paralysis gripping her.
Speak. Move. Run.
Her body refused to obey any of those commands.

“That’s a lovely name,” Tag said inching his hand from hers.

Her heart slammed in her chest at the thought of separating from this stranger.

“Camilla?” her mama said from behind her. The questioning demand in mama’s voice edged between Camilla’s burning need to touch this man and to respond to her mother.

“Thank you, its nice meeting you… um, Tag.” She dropped his hand and wrapped her arms around her waist to keep from wrapping them around him. She met her mom’s curious gaze and tried to smile. Face aflame she glanced at Ryan, ignored the question in his gaze and stepped toward the exit.

“Um… nice meeting you. I need to um… take care of something. Excuse me.” She walked briskly out the room, out the house and out of view of Tag. The man was dangerous and she still had no idea why.

Straightening, she banished the humiliating memory of their meeting to the dark corner of her mind. Ryan had been concerned and on more than one occasion made sure she understood Tag was not the one for her. Most of the time she agreed, but at other times…she wondered as she headed home.

“Arrgh,” she said stopping. Something stung her on the neck. “Damn it,” she yelled slapping her neck, it hurt then burned. A quick look at her palm showed no evidence that she killed the sucker. Cursing, she continued toward home. A few seconds later, she reached the area with the water fountain, away from the track and almost out of the park. Sunlight glinted off the faucet, the handle on the side faded to a dull, fuzzy shine. Blinking fast, she bent over and took several shallow breaths to ease the fire percolating in her chest.

Hand trembling, she tried to retrieve her phone from her pocket. Several attempts later, she held it steady enough to call Tyra. A fine tremor ran the distance of her spinal cord. Crying out, she searched for a place to sit, the bench near the faucet was too far. She held her shaking hand in front of her then stuffed it in her pocket. “Please wake up Tyra, please, please,” she prayed. The early morning pizza churned in her belly, then cramped causing her to bend forward with her arm wrapped around her waist.