Eventide of the Bear by Cherise Sinclair
“Cubs with an ‘s’? Oh, fucking A, I’m not ready for multiples,” Vicki moaned and laid her head on the table. “Someone shoot me. Now.”
Laughing, Alec pulled her up and hugged her. “You’re not alone. You have all of us. Family, Vixen.”
“Okay. Yeah. This is true.” Vicki pressed her forehead against his shoulder.
A longing sigh came from the li’l bear pressed against Ben’s side. He saw his brother had heard it as well.
Ryder curled his hand around Emma’s.
“If you’re finished with the mushy shit,” Zeb said, “can we get a few songs out of the bard before sunset when we have to patrol?”
Emma sat up straight and beamed at him. “Of course.”
Choosing to stay between him and Ryder, Emma launched into a song she’d taught them last week. As Ben hummed in harmony with Ryder, he watched and enjoyed his little female. As always, she had her audience in the palm of her hand. They loved her, both as a bard and as a person. Did she realize how quickly she’d become accepted in the close-knit community?
Damn, but he hated that she’d be leaving the first real home she’d ever had. Hated that for him and Ryder, as well.
Emma sang until she noticed the darkening sky and smoothly ended her performance. At the enthusiastic applause, she smiled—and only Ben noticed her bounce of delight. “Thank you all.”
Rising, Ben pulled her to her feet. “We need to get going. I want to see you home and locked up tight for the night.”
Zeb, who was stacking dishes, turned and glared at Shay. “You forgot to ask them, didn’t you?”
His partner winced. “I did. Yeah.”
Ben paused. “Ask what?”
“Ah,” Shay said. “Our mate hates being alone in the lodge on the dark of the moon. We’d planned to ask your family to stay the night.”
Ben glanced at Ryder. He and Emma had figured on packing this evening. “Up to you, bro.”
Ryder studied Breanne. “It bothers you to be here alone?”
Breanne flushed, but nodded. “Even someone sleeping upstairs is better than an empty lodge. But I understand if you prefer to be in your own home.”
“Having hellhounds around would make anyone feel insecure.” Ryder tugged on Emma’s braid. “I’m fine with staying here if you are, little bear.”
Ben smothered a smile. To strangers, Ryder often appeared as cold as a chiseled statue. Friends and family soon learned his façade covered a tender heart.
Emma said to Breanne, “I know how you feel.” The way her hand tightened around Ben’s let him know she’d worry over his safety, as well. “Company is better. We’d love to be your guests.”
“Thank you both. We’ll feel better if our mate isn’t afraid.” A corner of Zeb’s mouth turned up, and Ben knew that was his equivalent of a happy puppy’s tail wag. “Bree can show her gratitude by feeding you breakfast in the morning. You’ll never have had better.”
“Damn, you’re getting fucking diplomatic, a mhac,” Shay said.
Zeb growled. “I’m not your son, dumbass.” He glanced at Ben. “You and Alec get started. Shay and I are going to drive to those outlying houses where we found spoor. If nothing pops, we’ll return here to drop off the truck and take up our usual patrol pattern.”
*
GOODBYES WERE SAID, and the lodge emptied. Ben and Alec left on patrol. Shay and Zeb drove away. Emma, Ryder, and Minette remained with Bree.
Thank goodness they had work to do, Emma thought. Her nerves were screeching like an out of tune fiddle.
They’d barely finished the cleanup of the patio before the sun disappeared. After Ryder did his own version of the inside patrol—checking the ironwork on all the windows and the locks on the heavy oak doors, he pulled her close and gave her a light kiss. “Want some time with your friend? I can go play pool in the back.”
Emma gave him a grateful look. He was a wonder of a male to know she longed for more time with her friend. It was difficult to discover the joys of having friends and lose them. Not telling Bree about their departure was even harder.
Picking up Minette, Emma glanced at the stairs leading to the bedrooms. It was the cubling’s bedtime. But from the way the little fingers closed on her shirt, someone was reacting to the adults’ anxiety. Minette wouldn’t be comfortable alone in a strange room.
She carried the child into the sitting area and settled with her on the couch. Bree was already building up the fire in the river-rock fireplace.
Open to guests, the lodge’s game room, library, and conversational areas had hardwood floors, colorfully braided rugs, leather couches and chairs, and fireplaces. The décor was rustic enough that antlers mounted on the wall would have been typical…except no Daonain would anger the forest god in that way. Herne often wore antlers, and pissing him off made for a markedly shortened life.
Bree set one more log on the flames and said to the resident salamander, “There you go, buddy. You should stay nice and toasty.”
An impertinent swish of a glowing tail was her only answer.
Emma looked down to see if Minette noticed, but the child’s eyes were drooping. She’d had a busy day of playing, after all. “Lie down beside me, kitten.”
With a soundless sigh, the cub curled up on the couch, her head in Emma’s lap. Emma tucked the colorful quilt from the back of the couch around the child. Within a few breaths, Minette dropped into a sound sleep.
“I wish I could fall asleep that fast.” Bree rose and filled their glasses from an unfinished bottle of wine.
“She doesn’t always.” Emma took a sip. “She often has nightmares scary enough to send her running into Ryder’s room.” And my room. Knowing the child trusted her to frighten away monsters gave Emma a world of satisfaction. “Her mother must have been dreadful.”
“How sad.” Bree’s mouth turned down. “The Daonain usually care for their children far better than humans do.”
“There’s always the exception.” Look at her own mother. Eyes on the fire, Emma scowled. But a sweet cubling like Minette should have been treated as a precious gift.
“Well, she seems to have found herself a wonderful mother on her own.” Bree smiled and nodded at Emma’s lap. While sucking a thumb, the cub was clutching Emma’s flannel shirt to ensure her pillow didn’t move away.
The unexpected compliment made Emma’s eyes puddle with tears. “Thank you.”
“You were gone all afternoon!” An angry male’s voice came from outside. “Where have you been?”
“My activities are none of your business,” a female said loudly. The voice was familiar. “You went to the barbecue. It’s not as if you had nothing to do.”
Emma frowned. She’d met the female somewhere.
The male snapped, “You can’t just—”
“Oh, honestly.” Bree jumped to her feet. After checking the peephole, she opened the door and called to the couple in the parking area. “Please go inside, people. It’s not safe and you’re too loud.”
“It’s a free world. Don’t tell us what to do,” the female retorted.
Thinking to provide support, Emma slid out from under Minette and joined Bree in the doorway. The wind carried the scent of the shifters standing near the porch—a young male and a beautiful redhead.
Oh no. Genevieve.
Emma took a hasty step back. Too late.
Genevieve’s eyes thinned to slits, and her face flushed a furious purple-red. “You!”
The shout roused Minette who ran across the room to wrap her arms around Emma’s leg.
“You have my cub!” Genevieve charged up across the porch toward the door.
Emma picked up Minette and backed away as the female attempted to push past Bree.
“No,” Bree said decisively. When Genevieve persisted, Bree grabbed her arm, whirled her in a 360-degree circle, and sent her staggering back onto the porch.
To Emma’s relief, Ryder appeared. “Who screamed?”
“Genevie—” Emma’s
“That’s my baby. You can’t keep me from her.”
Bree stood in the doorway, blocking the entrance from Genevieve and her unhappy male.
Past Bree’s shoulders, Emma saw a pickup driving through the parking area. It was still moving when Zeb jumped out. He strode across the porch, shouldering past Genevieve to ask Bree, “What the fuck is going on?”
“We have a situation,” Bree said, scowling at Genevieve.
Genevieve turned her gaze on Zeb, and her voice dropped to a sickening sweetness. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re here. That giant female has my cub,”
Minette started trembling.
“Easy, sweetheart,” Emma whispered.
“You’re safe, kitten.” Ryder kissed the top of the cubling’s head and strode out the door, closing it behind him.
Whatever Zeb had said to Genevieve hadn’t calmed the female. She yelled. “She’s mine and I’m taking her back.”
As the yells of fury continued, Ryder’s voice could be heard. “Genevieve, this isn’t the—”
Emma tuned them all out. She had her own battle to fight—comforting a trembling cubling. Heart aching, Emma snuggled her closer. “Shhh, sweetheart. Let’s go upstairs where it’s quieter.” The little girl tried to burrow closer as Emma carried her up to the second floor. Bree hadn’t said which room they’d stay in, so Emma picked the one in the back.
She settled on the bed and pulled the child close. The noise of the verbal battle was still audible. “Have you heard the story of when a flower fairy decided she wanted to leave her garden and live in the forest instead?”
Sucking her thumb, Minette shook her head.
Outside, Genevieve shrieked and something slammed.
Minette flinched.
By the Mother, Genevieve had strong lungs. Why didn’t the males gag her? Fretting inside, Emma told the fairy story and sang one of Minette’s favorite songs.
Eventually there was silence downstairs, but the little girl kept shaking. Emma felt appallingly helpless. What could she do to make it better? “Do you want your daddy?”
Minette nodded.
“I’ll get him.” And maybe bring up some cubling comfort food, too. Rising, she picked up the fluffy afghan on the foot of the bed and tucked it around the cub.
Curled up like a pill bug, Minette pulled a pillow closer as if creating a defensive wall before she closed her eyes.
“Okay then.” She planted a kiss on top of the cub’s head. If that so-called mother came within arm’s reach, Emma would slap her into the next territory.
She met Zeb coming in the front door, his dark face terrifyingly angry. He slammed the door behind him violently enough to shake the house and stalked into the kitchen.
She followed to find Ryder, Shay, and Breanne.
Ryder spotted her in the doorway and held out an arm. “How’s Minette?”
Emma curled into his embrace, needing his strength. “She’s been shivering like she was left in the snow. She wants her daddy.”
“I’ll go right up.”
“Is the female gone?” Emma asked.
Zeb answered. “I…took her to the cabin she’s sharing with two males. Told them if she didn’t behave, they’d be cabinless. With a hellhound in the area. They said they’d keep her in the cabin.”
“I appreciate the intervention.” Ryder rubbed his face. “Fuck, I can’t believe how stupid I was about her back then.”
Shay slapped his shoulder. “Stupid, yes. But you got a good cub.”
Emma nodded. “There is that. You two created someone special.”
“Yeah.” The bitterness in Ryder’s face eased. He nodded to the cahirs. “Excuse me—and good luck on your patrol.”
As Ryder trotted out of the kitchen, Emma turned to Bree. “Any chance I could have a cup of hot chocolate for Minette and a picture book?”
“Absolutely.” Bree rummaged through the cupboards and pulled out an instant mix packet.
Shay took it from her hand. “I’ll make this, mo chridhe. You find a book for the lass.”
“Thank you.” Bree kissed her mate and motioned Emma to follow. “Let’s go see what would work for a little girl.”
RYDER REACHED THE second floor hallway to see several doors, none open. Which room was Minette in? He didn’t smell her feet on the carpet runner.
Rather than calling downstairs—the baby had heard too much shouting already—he opened the closest door. Empty. Then the next. Master bedroom. Another master bedroom. One with female fripperies. Probably Bree’s. An empty guest room. Another empty guest room. The last room. Also empty.
By the God, where was she? “Minette?”
He scouted the rooms again. The last room had a rumpled quilt on the bed with Minette’s scent. This was where she’d been.
The bathroom was empty. Worry tensed his gut, and he called louder, “Minette. Come on out.”
And louder, “Minette!”
Fuck. Even though his nose reported she wasn’t in other rooms, Ryder still checked to ensure no child hid under the bed or in the closets.
Running down the stairs, Ryder met Emma with a cup of hot chocolate in one hand and a book in the other. “She’s not up there,” he said.
“What?”
“Not. There.” His words snapped out. “Help me find her.”
Without another word, Emma followed him downstairs. She set everything on an end table. “Bree! We need to find Minette.”
Bree came out of the kitchen, followed by her mates. Barefoot and shirtless, Shay was obviously preparing to patrol as a wolf. Thank fuck the brothers hadn’t left yet.
“I can’t find Minette upstairs,” Ryder said.
“Not good,” Zeb muttered. He headed toward the rear of the lodge.
Shay ran upstairs, Emma to the small reception and library area, Bree to the game room. Ryder checked the closets and under furniture.
“Nothing up here,” Shay called down.
“Nothing here,” Bree yelled.
A whine drew Ryder to the laundry-room exit where a darkly colored wolf paced in front of the door.
“Zeb, what’s up?” Shay entered the room, followed by Emma and Bree.
The wolf sniffed the floor, the doorknob, and whined again.
Ryder froze. Minette’s scent shouldn’t be there.
“No pup would go out in the dark. This can’t be, bro.” Shay’s voice stayed even despite the concern etched on his face.
The wolf pawed the door in an obvious demand.
Icy fear ran up Ryder’s spine.
“No,” Emma whispered.
“Minette might,” Ryder told Shay. “If people shout, she runs outside and hides. At Genevieve’s, I found her cowering in a well-worn hollow under a tree.”
“Herne’s hairy balls.” Shay started spitting orders, “A bhràthair, start the search. Ryder and I’ll be right behind as soon as we shift. A howl says you found her. Two says call out all the assistance we can get.”
The yip said Zeb got it. When Shay opened the door, the wolf leaped out.
His cub, outside. On dark of the moon. A cold, fear sweat dampened Ryder’s clothes. He stripped off his shirt.
Shay gripped Bree’s arm. “A ghrá, Calum isn’t home, so Joe Thorson’s at the tavern in charge of problems. Call and let him know what’s up. He can redirect Alec and Ben.”
Good. Call everyone in. But Emma was unbuttoning her shirt. Ryder shook his head. “No, little bear. We need you and Bree here, in case Minette returns.”
Her mouth turned stubborn. His brave female.
“No argument. You will stay inside.” He took her hands. “Remember, one howl means we’ve got her. If you hear two howls…”
“Two means we call Joe Thorson to say there’s a hellhound near here.” Although her eyes held fear, her legs were braced, her stance ready. She was amazing.
“Thank you, little bear.” Ryder quickly brushed her lips with his. By the God, he loved this fe
Shay shifted to wolf.
A second later, Ryder dropped onto his paws and flexed his claws against the hardwood floor. Ready.
“Herne protect you,” Emma whispered as she pulled open the door and let them out into the moonless, black night.
Kitten, where are you?
*
“MINETTE, WHEREVER YOU are, come back,” Emma whispered to the empty room.
Rattling noises came from the kitchen. Bree was preparing something hot for the men—and Minette—when they returned. She said it was her way of working off her worry.
Emma paced through the lodge and stopped at each window and door to listen for sounds outside. But little silent Minette couldn’t even cry out for help.
Tears blurred her vision. Genevieve’s shouting and screaming. Had the slamming door driven the already frightened cub out into the night? It was getting cold out there. Dark.
Damn Genevieve anyway. Emma’s hands fisted. If she ever saw the female again, she’d hit her. Hard. Knock her fangs out, leave her a toothless wolf.
She leaned her head against the back door to listen and heard an owl hoot and the gurgling creek at the forest’s edge.
The fire was dying in the living area. Emma stopped to build it up. Minette would be chilled when she got back. The extra log wakened the salamander into doing a slow slither through the coals.
In the library, Emma listened at the windows, straightened the magazines on a table, picked up a jigsaw puzzle piece from the floor, and bookmarked a murder mystery book left face-down on a chair. Minette would adore this room, especially the bookshelf filled with picture books and children’s board games.
Noises still came from the kitchen.
Emma started another circuit. Leaning her head against the front door, she heard…something. Not the Douglas firs sighing in the wind. There it was. A high, thin sound.
Only the men’s warnings kept her from flinging the door open. She peered out the tiny viewing pane. Nothing was visible in the glow of the porch light. Beyond lay only blackness.
What had she heard? A cubling’s cry? Or a screech owl, or a cat?
“Do it again, sweetheart. Did you yell?” Emma pressed her ear harder against the door. The rising wind made the lodge’s hanging sign creak. Tree branches groaned in complaint. An owl hooted again.