“You’re kidding, right?”
“A traumatized teenager isn’t going to give us the best names. All we know is that she was a woman with cat-slit eyes. Best guess from the description is a cougar.”
“Cougar-shifter, right? Not an older woman who?—”
“Yeah. Shifter.”
She raised her hand, cutting him off. He froze and watched her intently while her tequila-sloshed brain reached for whatever it was that teased the edge of her consciousness. “The cat I saw. Right before the attack.”
His ears seemed to twitch. Really. But when she looked closer, everything about him appeared human-man normal except for his abnormal stillness.
“What do you remember?” he asked, his question pressed as a low rumble.
She shook her head. “A cougar, I think. Large cat, golden brown fur, gone in a split second.”
He waited for her to say more, but she didn’t have anything else. Just a quick flash before her world turned completely inside out. “Tell me more about her,” she pressed.
He shrugged, the movement obviously forced as he tried to settle his hackles. “Northern Michigan was lousy with cougars until the wolves got pissed off. Skirmish, war, blah blah blah. There’s a tentative peace now thanks to Carl, but who knows what’s really going on.”
Was he serious? He certainly looked so, but the whole thing just boggled her mind. “There was not a war in Michigan.”
“There was. A little one. The one major battle was reported as a cult massacre.”
She shook her head. “I don’t believe it. The cover-up would have to be massive.”
He blew out a breath. “Magic likes to be kept secret. No one does it. It just happens.”
She chewed on that for a while. “But now I’m in on the secret.”
“Yup. But watch what happens when you try to talk to someone about it. There will be a subliminal compulsion to keep mum. Even if you’ve never lied before in your life, you’ll misdirect your own family. You just will.”
She opened her mouth to argue, but then thought back. Wasn’t that exactly what had happened at the hospital? She’d started to tell her sister about the attack, but hadn’t managed to speak about grown men suddenly changing into bears. And when she’d planned on talking to her father, she’d phrased it as a question and allowed him to laugh her into silence. She hadn’t planned to keep silent. She just had.
“I don’t like not being in control of my actions,” she murmured.
“Tell me about it.” When her gaze shot to his, he shrugged. “It’s something all shifters get used to. Sometimes we just howl at the moon whether we choose to or not.”
She frowned. “I thought you don’t do that.”
“It’s an expression, but you’re right. Grizzlies don’t howl. We kind of moan at it.”
She stared at him, trying to decide if he was joking. When his expression turned sheepish, she realized that he was dead serious. He did moan at the moon. She started to laugh, dropping her head back against the couch as she stared at the ceiling. “This is insane.”
“I know. But you’re safe. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
She lifted her head. The way he said it was extra heavy. Like he was vowing to defend her unto death or something. “Am I really in that much danger?”
He shook his head. “We’ve got things covered.” He touched his tablet and angled the screen to her. “See? All clear.”
Like she could read anything from across the room. She didn’t even bother to look closely. She trusted him to keep her safe. That much, at least, was abundantly clear. “Last question,” she said. “Tell me the real reason you’re dying.”
He flinched, and his hands tightened into fists. “Julie—” he began, but she cut him off. The last thing she wanted to do was cause him pain.
“Look, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. But I’d really like to know. I can?—”
“Next time I turn into a bear, and I’m not coming back.”
Her words stopped in her throat, and then she tilted her head, trying to sort through his words. His tone was so matter of fact that he sounded like he was saying he was moving to Los Angeles and going California native. Except he was talking about being a grizzly. “Start again, please. For the nonshifter in the room.”
