Page 122 of Choose the Bears

The thin wail of police sirens made clear that role might be taken away from us, so we reared back on our back paws, making clear just how futile trying to escape was. Phil would get arrested, maybe charged for a crime, but he’d plead some bullshit before the human judge, get out on bail, and plan his next atrocity.

This was a man who stank of death and degradation, other people’s blood somewhere under his nails. It was a particular kind of stink that I’d hoped to never smell again. The men that hurt me, knocked me around just to hear me scream or cry, and then laughed at the wanton cruelty of it. I couldn’t help but see every fucking one of them right now, the bear and I as one as we pulled a paw back, ready to make Phil a bloody stain on the ground.

“There’s some of your kind looking for this fuck.” Greg rarely raised his voice and he didn’t right now, just shooting me a sidelong look, like he was asking me if I wanted beer or a rum and Coke at the bar. “I know you want to kill him, and if that’s really what you want, take him out into the darkness.” His claws flexed and the rest of the fox shifters clustered closer. “We’ll deal with the cops.”

Yes, that, the bear decided, but Greg wasn’t finished.

“But the bears that want this fuck? They want revenge on the man who hurt their fated mate. That might cause some tension in your community, denying them their prey.”

One noisy breath, then another, came and went, but on the third, I pushed forward. Like emerging from beneath the water’s surface, I stumbled out of the bear’s skin and my foot slammed down on Phil’s chest when he tried to rise. He wasn’t moving me anywhere I didn’t want to go. Greg slapped a roll of gaffa tape in my hand, the pain of my blistered palm gone now.

“Bind him up, throw him in the back of the truck I leant you,” Greg instructed, turning to face down the headlights that were coming closer. “Drive him back to the city. The bears you’re looking for? They have a women’s refuge?—”

“Close to the city,” I finished for him, knowing exactly where it was.

I was supposed to put some hours in there when they were still building the place but got drunk instead. Time to make amends, I thought, stretching out a length of tape and then using it to bind the weaselly fuck’s wrists and ankles, slapping an extra piece over his mouth so when I tossed him in the tray of the truck, his cry was muffled to near silence. With new clothes found and some water and food, I was in the cabin of the truck, looking in the rear vision mirror before turning the ignition over and putting the car into gear.

“Ring Bjorn,” I told my phone, the sound of its rhythmic buzz filling the cab as I set off down the road.

Chapter 63

Imogen

After having a marathon sex session with my fated mates, the next morning should’ve been lovely. Sore, but in that wonderful, well used way. Instead, I was awoken by the frantic buzz of someone’s phone.

Asher’s phone.

“Yes.” His tone was clipped as he answered the call. “You have him? He did?” A long pause. “And you didn’t kill him? No, you have my gratitude.” I stared at his back, wondering what the fuck kind of mate I had if he could talk about murder so coolly. “Don’t bring him here. He can’t get within ten feet of this place. I’ll meet you at the forest out near Mount Crawford. Not many campers out there at this time of year. Let me know when you’re about an hour away.” I rose up and off the bed, unable to feign sleeping while he had this conversation. Those blue eyes rolled around to meet mine. “Thanks again.”

“What was?—?”

“Phil’s been found,” he told me in a quiet voice, but even that was enough to wake the others. Kyle groaned and then raked his hand across his face, but Lucas’ eyes flicked open instantly.

“He’s been found?” Luc rolled into a seated position, slapping around on the bedside table for his glasses before staring at the two of us.

“Who’s been found?” Kyle looked almost comical, blinking owlishly and looking around the room for clues. He found them in our sombre mood. I was instantly dragged closer to him, hugged to his chest like a teddy bear.

Except he was the bear.

And so was Asher. I remembered his polar bear perfectly, those ice-blue eyes marking him as a shifter rather than as a natural bear, but I felt like I saw a shadow of that massive beast lurking behind him then. The same intense gaze that would’ve been used as he tracked seals across an ice floe was directed at us now.

“Phil Jackson,” he replied finally. “He’s been found, so we need to go into lockdown.”

He punched a number into his phone and put through a call.

“Urse? Meet me in the conference room. We need to go into lockdown. Yeah, he’s been found. See you there in five.”

Asher jerked on his clothes like they personally offended him, which was the only outward sign of what he was feeling. I rose up off the bed, going to place a hand on his arm. He stilled, staring at me midway through zipping up his jeans, then shook his head.

“Stay here… please.” The last bit was dragged out of him it felt. Asher wanted to bark orders, command each one of us to do what he wanted, I felt that in my bones, but he held that impulse back for us. “Stay with the rest of our sleuth. Stay safe.”

But what about him?

I pulled someone’s t-shirt over my head and then my yoga pants, following him out the door and down the hall, my legs forced to move fast to keep up.

“Asher? Asher!”

“So he’s been sighted?”Ursula bit every word off, looking up when I came floundering in through the door after Asher, Lucas and Kyle joining us seconds later. “You want a lockdown protocol put in place.”

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