Page 1 of Hexy Bear
ONE
GRIFF
The phone's shrill ring cut through the pre-dawn silence like a chainsaw through cedar, dragging Griff Cooper from the first decent sleep he'd managed in weeks. His bear stirred restlessly beneath his skin as he fumbled for the device, squinting at the caller ID through bleary eyes.
Leo Maddox. Sheriff's Department. Three-seventeen AM. Leo, his long-time friend, was once the police captain, became Professor of Applied Supernatural Security, and then became the Sheriff’ two weeks ago. The man had experienced life changes several times over than any ordinary shifter, not to mention his involvement with founder level magic.
Nothing good ever came from law enforcement calls at this hour, especially not in a town where "unusual circumstances" could mean anything from vampire noise complaints to pixies shoplifting at the hardware store.
"Cooper," he answered, his voice rough with sleep and the lingering taste of exhaustion.
"I need you at the wildlife sanctuary. Now." Leo's voice carried the tight control that meant supernatural complications. "We've got a situation."
Griff sat up, instantly alert. The wildlife sanctuary bordered the forest preserve where he'd taken Tilly hiking just last weekend, where she'd insisted on talking to the trees and somehow convinced a family of rabbits to follow them home. "What kind of situation?"
"The kind that has park rangers calling about 'unnatural disturbances' and every animal with working instincts fleeing for the county line." Leo's lion must be prowling close to the surface; his voice carried that dangerous rumble that made smart people step carefully. "Whatever's happening out there, it started around midnight. The entire eastern quadrant is... wrong."
Griff's blood chilled. Seven months had passed since the supernatural community had celebrated what everyone believed was lasting peace. Seven months since Dr. Elena Vasquez had recovered from her possession and the Mistbound fragments had been transformed into healing matrices. Seven months of quiet nights and normal problems, of believing his daughter might actually grow up safe in this strange little town where magic and mundane coexisted like old married couples who'd learned to appreciate each other's quirks.
He should have known it was too good to last.
"I'll be there in twenty," Griff said, already rolling out of bed and reaching for the jeans he'd left draped over his chair. "Do I need to bring the emergency kit?"
"Bring everything," Leo said grimly. "And Griff? Be prepared for this to get weird."
The line went dead, leaving Griff staring at his phone in the darkness of his bedroom. Through the thin walls of their modest two-bedroom house, he could hear Tilly's soft breathing from her room next door. She'd been restless all night, murmuring in her sleep about shadows and pretty ladies and knitting needles that moved like snakes. He'd chalked it up to an overactiveimagination and too much Halloween candy from the town's recent harvest festival.
Now he wondered if his six-year-old daughter's nightmares might be something far more dangerous than childhood anxiety.
Griff dressed quickly, his movements automatic after years of emergency calls from his handyman business. Jeans, flannel shirt, work boots that had seen more supernatural crises than any footwear should reasonably encounter. He grabbed his emergency kit from the hall closet, a duffel bag that contained silver rounds, iron filings, protective charms blessed by various town residents, and enough supernatural insurance policies to make even the most optimistic paranormal investigator nervous.
He was halfway to the front door when a thin, terrified wail cut through the house like a knife through his heart.
"Daddy!"
Griff dropped everything and ran.
He found Tilly sitting bolt upright in her twin bed, her dark curls plastered to her forehead with sweat and her eyes wide with the kind of terror that no child should go through. Her stuffed wolf, Mr. Gruff, lay forgotten on the floor beside a overturned glass of water that was somehow steaming in the cool October air.
"Hey, baby girl," Griff said softly, settling on the edge of her bed and pulling her into his arms. She was burning up, her small body radiating heat that didn’t have anything to do with fever but with magic that had been manifesting in increasingly dramatic ways since her sixth birthday. "Another bad dream?"
"Not a dream," Tilly whispered against his chest, her voice muffled but certain. "The pretty lady was here. She was standing right there by my window, and she had all these shadows moving around her like they were dancing. They wanted to come inside, but Mr. Gruff growled at them."
Griff's gaze flicked to the window, which was securely locked and showed nothing but the familiar view of their back garden and the forest beyond. But the air in the room felt charged, like the moments before a thunderstorm, and his bear was pacing restlessly with the instinctive knowledge that something predatory had been far too close to his cub.
"What did this pretty lady look like?" he asked, trying to keep his voice casual even as his protective instincts roared to life.
"Tall. Really tall, like a grown-up, but not like a normal grown-up. Her hair was dark and it moved even when there wasn't any wind. And her eyes..." Tilly shuddered. "Her eyes looked like they were full of stars, but not the nice kind. The scary kind that watch you."
Every alarm bell in Griff's head started clanging. In a town where the supernatural was everyday reality, parents learned to take their children's "imaginary" encounters seriously. Especially when those children carried enough magical potential to accidentally short-circuit the town's electrical grid during particularly vivid nightmares.
"Did she say anything to you?" Griff asked.
"She didn't talk with her mouth. She talked inside my head, like when I can hear what Mr. Gruff is thinking, except louder. She said she's been waiting a really long time, and now all the right people are finally in the same place. She said she wants to meet me properly, but first she has to deal with Grandma Ruth's knitting needles."
Ice flooded Griff's veins. Ruth Blackthorne had been knitting protective charms for the supernatural community since before Griff was born. Her needles were local legend, capable of weaving wards that could turn away everything from hostile fae to rogue vampires. If something was specifically targeting Ruth's magical defenses...
"Tilly, I need you to listen to me very carefully," Griff said, pulling back to look directly into his daughter's eyes. "If you see that lady again, or if you feel scared or strange or if your magic starts acting up, I want you to call me immediately. Don't try to handle it yourself, don't try to be brave. Just call me. Can you do that?"
