Page 25 of Make Me Bleed

I’m also allowed to borrow it if only to get in contact with Thorn about my blood deliveries. Other than that, I don’t use it, and rather than search SupeNet to look up bear shifters—and listen to Bridge’s endless ribbing of me—I decided to stop by the library and see if there are any books I can read.

Karl is an owl shifter. Even in his skin, it’s easy to tell. He has thick dark brown sideburns, large, gold-colored eyes, and a short yet pointed nose that is undeniably beak-like. His eyes are hidden behind glasses a half-inch thick, making him one of the only shifters I’ve ever heard of who need help to see.

Owls are apex predators, but in the shifter world, they’re considered prey if only because shifters have their own prejudices, and size is one of them. I’m barely 5’3” in heels, and even I’m taller than Karl.

At the sound of my heels, he lifts his head from his book, beaming when he sees me. “Elise! Welcome, welcome!”

Most shifters in Dyea skirt the vampire residents. I like coming to the library because Karl never has. If you’re a reader, you’re a friend of the owl shifter, no matter what else you are.

His kindness and welcome isn’t the only reason I like to talk to Karl. Though the library isn’t very large, and—like Gertrude’s films—the books are mostly from his personal collection, Karl is smart. Like,supersmart. He has an encyclopedic knowledge of just about every subject, and no judgement.

“Hi, Karl. How have you been?”

“Good, good. Got a recent donation from a UAF. An old sparrow buddy of mine accepted a couple of boxes of culled textbooks on my behalf, then shipped ‘em over.” His nails are curved, almost like talons even in his skin rather than his feathers, and he taps the tips on the page he’s reading. “It’s a good day when I have a new book to read. And you? What can I do for you?”

“I’m doing well,” I tell him, and it’s not a lie. My thirst is getting a little annoying again, and Hank rules my thoughts constantly, but since I’m working toward claiming him Elise-style, things are looking up. “I actually was interested in borrowing one of your books.”

“Of course! Any in particular?”

Here goes nothing… “Do you have any on bears?”

“Bears?” he echoes. Karl adjusts his glasses, pushing them back up his nose. “Can’t say that I do, but I’m a bit of an expert on the subject.” In my experience, he’s an expert ineverysubject. “I’m assuming you’re referring to the local species? The Alaska Penninsula brown bear?” At my puzzled look, he amends it to, “Also known as the Alaskan grizzly since we’re inland.”

Assuming that’s the same as a shifter, too, then yes. I nod.

“What would you like to know?”

“Anything. Everything.” I swallow the nervousness rising up my throat. “Specifically their mating habits.”

Karl’s eyes brighten behind his glasses. For a second, I almost regret doing this, but then he launches into such a detailed explanation about the bears, I’m too bombarded by information to be embarrassed for asking it.

He explains their diet (they’re opportunistic omnivores who eat meats, plants, and fish, with the local salmon in particular), and what hibernation is (or, really, torpor: a deep, sleep-like state that lasts from about October to May in fact, though it’s not a constant rest), and their tendency to be solitary creatures… except for mating season.

It’s a perfect segue for Karl to tell me about their mating habits. However, instead of going into details about the act—and as sexually liberated as I am, I can’t bring myself to reroute the conversation back to that—he says, “It goes back to these bears being solitary. They only come together for mating. They mate for a short period of time, then the male and females go their separate ways. Cubs stay with their mother, of course, while the male don’t typically stay. Plus, bears can be quite promiscuous. They can have multiple partners during their mating season.”

My heart feels like it’s being squeezed. Wolves… they mate for life; at least, wolf shifters do. I guess I thought bear shifters did as well, but is that why Hank finds it so easy to keep away? Because, to a bear, they just want to rut, then disappear?

“Oh,” I murmur softly. “I didn’t know that.”

Karl bobs his head. “It’s true. Though, if your interest veers more toward us supes, a bear shifter is quite different than their wild counterpart. They usually don’t live in groups, but like any bonded shifter, they will commit to a mate for life.”

That’s… that’sbetter. I mean, I can’t say I love that Hank’s type of supe isn’t a fan of living among others, especially when my next goal is trying to convince him to join me in Dyea, but at least I don’t have to worry about bonding my beloved to me, only to watch him walk away.

Or for him to take me as a mate, then want another…

I open my mouth, ready to ask another question, when Karl’s head swivels on his neck, nearly a full two-hundred-and-seventy degrees.

“Van!” he chirps. “I didn’t see you over there. Come in, come in. What can I do you for?”

Van. I follow the direction of Karl’s stare, noticing a striking olive-skinned vampire with soft brown eyes, slicked-back black hair, and a slight startled expression as he stares at Karl’s unusual twist of his neck. Van recovers quickly, shaking off his discomfort, replacing it with a composed grin as his gaze lands on me.

And I know without understanding quite how that he didn’t come into the library for a book. He came in here becauseIdid.

It’s not just Julian who’s been watching me. There was Clarice and Helen. Van. Stacey… and all in the last few weeks. What is going on?

I don’t know, but I don’t have time for it, either. So, with a quick wave, I abruptly say, “Thanks, Karl! I’m sure I’ll see you again soon!”

He untwists his head, looking at me as I make my quick escape. “But, Elise, I didn’t even get to to tell you about?—”

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