Chapter 7
Simon walked steadily outside. He needed fresh air on his face and the smell of trees. He needed clean water gurgling nearby. But most of all, he needed away from Alyssa with her chocolate-brown eyes and her tight jaw. Her shoulders were broad for a woman, but they fit her perfectly as she Tasered her brother in one breath and then begged him for help in the next. No frail flower her, but also not a woman filled with pride. She would do whatever was needed to save her brother.
He admired her for that. But that didn’t mean he could help her.
He stopped walking in the parking lot. The air here wasn’t remotely clean and the stagnant pools of water nearby smelled of urban waste. How did people live like this? Fortunately, the pollution did have one good side effect. His grizzly that had been clawing to spring free, now quieted with a nauseated grumble. It didn’t want out in this urban wasteland. It needed the silence in the UP and the cool darkness of a sky lit only by stars. Here, every neon light, every honking horn reminded him that being a man was not so great a thing.
Unfortunately, he didn’t have a choice. He had no way to get back to the UP just yet. At least not until he remembered how to access his money without being able to read. Or failing that, jack a car and drive.
So he stood in the middle of the parking lot and glared at the nearby stop sign. He knew what it was by shape and placement. Knew, too, that it read “stop.” But the shifting white lines made no sense to him unless it was the bend and curve of a very white, very strange plant. Which, of course, it wasn’t.
“Thinking about walking back to the UP?” Alyssa asked.
He hadn’t heard her come outside and her voice should have startled him. Instead, it helped him breathe. He could understand her words and when her scent hit him, he inhaled deeply.
“I have money. I could get a flight home.” It was a lie. His bear was too close to the surface to subject it to the inside of a small plane. What if it went berserk and tore out the side?
She sighed. A quick tight sound that was as much animal as human. It was the sound of a creature changing direction. And when he turned to look at her, she offered him a can of beer.
“Here,” she said. “It’s Vic’s, but no way am I letting him have this right now.”
“Alcohol would be bad for him in his condition.” Whatever monster was inside Vic, it was stirred by fury. Anything that dropped his inhibitions would be like adding fuel to the fire. “It is also prohibited for me in this protocol.”
She cocked her head to the side like a bird inspecting a possible meal. “Awful big words there, Corporal Gold. You could just say you don’t like the brand.” She set the can on the trunk of her car.
“I don’t remember if I like that kind of beer. I do remember that I have things that I must do before it is safe for anyone to be around me.”
She nodded. “Things like remember how to read?”
“Yes. Also, I must sleep and wake as a man.” He looked out past her car to the steady march of houses, some in disrepair, some sporting flowers and fresh paint. This neighborhood wasn’t thriving, but it wasn’t lost yet. “You know what I am, but you don’t understand what it means. You don’t know that I walk a razor-thin line between beast and man.” He gestured to the landscape. “If I become a bear here, how will I survive? And who will I hurt in the process?”
Her eyes widened and she swallowed. Then with a shaking hand, she grabbed the can of beer and popped the top, grimacing as she took a slug. “Vic has shit taste in beer,” she said after a moment.
Simon felt his lips lift into a smile. “That is something I remember.” He looked closer at the brand name on the can. “Vic likes his beer cheap.”
“And plentiful.” She drank some more. He found himself fascinated by the curve of her neck and the steady bob of her Adam’s apple. Female necks were not alluring to him. They were simply the column on which the head was placed. And yet, watching hers held distinct appeal. He could not figure out what he liked the most. The delicate curve, the swanlike stretch, or perhaps it was the smooth landscape of skin broken by a mole just under her jawline. It all interested him.
And then she stopped drinking. He was saddened by that until she thumbed on her phone and spoke into the receiver. “It’s me. I’m outside. Bring me some brownies.”
Her face was animated as she spoke and he was man enough now to appreciate the fullness of her lips and the crinkle beside her eyes when she smiled. She set down her phone then returned his gaze. The arch of her brow lifted her expression into quizzical and his smile widened. But when he spoke, he kept his tone neutral.
“Alcohol is not allowed in this protocol,” he said. “Cannabis is equally prohibited.”
“You’re not the only one standing here, Simon.”
He nodded in acknowledgment, but she waved the gesture aside.
“Besides, these are my brownies. Just sugar, flour, butter, and five times the normal amount of chocolate.”
He arched his brows. “That is a lot of chocolate.”
“Desperate times, desperate measures.”
They stood in silence while Malik brought out a plate of brownies. He set it down on the hood of the trunk with jittery movements and a nervous manner. As if he wasn’t sure who to be more worried about: his boss Alyssa or the monster caged downstairs. She didn’t help him. Just watched the boy with steady eyes as he delivered the dessert, seemed like he wanted to talk, but then thought better of it. A moment later, he nodded to them and went back inside.
Alyssa didn’t speak until the door had shut behind him.
“You can’t help Vic,” she said. Her tone was flat but he didn’t detect any acrimony in it. Just a statement of fact.
