Page 30 of Taming Her Bears

“You told them that?”

Pete hedged a little, then straightened and looked Josh in the eye. “I was telling them that when they received another call. I guess it was more important. They told Natalia she could check for signs of criminal activity, then left.”

“You lucky son-of-a-bitch.”

We decided to pull theChristinaout while we had a chance. The men that had spearheaded the operation were all dead. TheChristina, sitting in Canadian waters, would just complicate things. The dead snipers, blown to bits by our own Miss True Heart, were just a complication of Kidnapping Gone Wrong. Let the Canadians sort it out.

It was an unusually clear evening. The stars and moon gave off so much sparkling radiance, we scarcely needed our lights. We had all moved out to the main deck, propping folding chairs close to the guardrails so we could sprawl back and listen to the constant murmur of the ocean. A large cooler full of beer sat between us. The boat chugged gently, pulling the ghostly cutter behind it. It felt like a funeral procession.

“McCarthy was a good man,” said Josh, waving around a beer bottle. “He was one of the first advocates for special shapeshifting units.” He poured his drink over the side. “Drink up, McCarthy.”

“McCarthy even tried to create a unit for beavers,” chuckled Darkhorse with that husky voice people use when digging through memories. “They make damned good construction workers, but they weren’t the best at search and rescue. They drowned more dummies than they rescued.”

“Beaver shapeshifters don’t do well at Arctic operations,” I said. “We had to rescue a few who were chasing down a pipeline saboteur. They were lost and suffering from hypothermia.”

“Here’s to McCarthy,” said Darkhorse. “His heart was always in the right place.” He leaned over the rail and watched as the liquid streamed from the bottle and into the ocean. “We got them, old man. The rat-sucking, girl-thieving, back-stabbing bastards. We got them. Rest in peace.”

I stood up just a little drunkenly and waved my bottle toward the rail. “McCarthy, may the Valkyries carry you on wings to the place where only the brave and noble of heart are allowed to enter. May you endure the kisses of a thousand beautiful women.” I poured my bottle over the rail and nearly toppled over with it. Natalia caught me, pulling me back.

“All right, Eric the Red. Come back to earth now. We all love you, even when you put on your war helmet.” She gave me a kiss to prove it and made me sit back down. She remained standing, propped against the railing. “I never met McCarthy, but he was a member of our finest military force and a friend to everyone on this team. That’s good enough for me. Captain McCarthy, this is in your honor.” She poured out her beer.

Lee had been unusually quiet. He sat back in his chair, a dark scowl on his face. I knew he’d looked up to McCarthy, but I didn’t think the attachment had been that strong.

“I killed the lieutenant,” he blurted. We all turned to him in wordless surprise. “I killed the man who sold him out. The one who led Denisovich to McCarthy’s house.” He stood up and yelled toward theChristina, “Did you hear that, Captain? I saw the lieutenant on the yacht, and I killed him. I killed the traitor.” He raised his beer high, then dumped it.

Josh tried very hard not to appear perturbed and finally managed. “I think McCarthy should be drunk enough by now.”

Lee threw himself back in his chair and popped open another bottle. “I damned sure hope so. We need some for us.”

The lights of Ketchikan were twinkling in the distance. I closed my eyes and relaxed in the cool northern air. It was good to be home.

Natalia

What? Not a single embrace? Not one person thanking me for saving them two days off their savage ramble through the wilderness? I suppose I should get used to it. Their instinct was to grumble. They would grumble if Gordon Ramsay invited them to dinner. I think Josh was relieved at the chance to grab theChristinawithout having to jump through a lot of diplomatic loops, but he certainly didn’t want to show it. He pulled the whole military/civilian rank on me, but it worked both ways. As a civilian law officer, I wasn’t obligated to take his orders.

I didn’t really have to strong-arm Pete. I knew the cap would be easier on him, though, if he thought I was the culprit. Pete didn’t want to leave without the team, either. As soon as we were within range of the abandoned cutter, it was easy to convince him to wait for them there. We had a good cover story, and the Canadians didn’t want a quarrel with us any more than we wanted one with them. He’s not used to gambling but he was able to drum up a good poker face, probably from all those years of following the chain of command.

Pete’s an all right dude. He doesn’t look half-bad, with short-cropped hair leaning more toward brown than blonde, hazel eyes—which, contrary to opinion, did not reflect his emotions. They were always murky, unless he was wearing blue. Then, they looked like the ocean on a clear day. He was stacked, too. Not off-the-chart powerhouse stacked like my four hunks in furs, but enough to show nice muscular definition under his Coast Guard button-up. He’d make a good catch for any single girl without a lengthy waiting list, just not me. The chemistry wasn’t there. He didn’t have the pizzazz. The shapeshifters did.

It’s hard to think clearly when I think about my boys. Sometimes, I find it hard to separate them—except Roy, who looked like he stepped off a nineteenth-century Norwegian whaling ship. He didn’t think quite the same as the others. He didn’t have their competitive streak. Often, I felt like he was holding his abilities back and channeling them into his hobbies. Yet they respected him as though he was a senior officer instead of an ensign. Darkhorse told me that Lee once broke the ice away from a tugboat by himself and manually pulled the boat into an ice-free zone. The pilot was so amazed, all he could do was get down on his knees and bless Iliamna, the goddess who rules the Bristol Bay, for sending her angels. He didn’t see Roy as a bear, but a vision of white light. I’ve seen him shift. He doesn’t look like an angel of light—he looks like a mountain of fur, claws, and teeth.

When they are human, they are just like any Arctic sea-faring men I’ve ever known. Their eyes are always fastened to the far north with its black winter storms. They spend months living right on the edge of death. When they come to port, they love music and dancing. They love their women and treat them like queens, even the women who don’t stay true to them while they are gone. It’s the wild seas that call them. It’s their loneliness that tames them.

Just like seamen, they get grumpy, but they are the only seamen I know that literally turn into bears. It’s okay with me if they tear off their clothes and jump into a pool of water whenever they get mad, but I didn’t want them to think, even once, they could use their bear faces to intimidate me. And I thought they should be at least a little happy to see me. Instead, they were grouchy as, well, bears.

Their faces glowered while they supervised the crew preparing the winch to haul out theChristina. They didn’t like the way the boat was being handled and hooked up the winch themselves, easing the cable by hand until they got her into deep water. Then, in a black funk, they dragged out a cooler full of beer, flopped down in some chairs, and began to drink themselves silly.

What’s a gal gotta do to keep her northmen happy? I complained to Pete. As my co-conspirator, I kept him in my confidence. He was the one person who could teach me about living around shapeshifters. I had no question I was going to live with them. For me, it was just a matter of figuring out how. Now that we were in Alaskan waters, Pete had a peaceful expression on his face. He remained at the wheel, his eyes fixed on the spotted seascape sliding by the windows, and didn’t answer right away.

“I see the antacids worked,” I quipped dryly.

“What? I’m sorry. It wasn’t that apparent, was it? The ulcers?”

“I’ve got a dad.”

“Yeah.” We cleared the last of the chain and churned out into open water. He turned the controls over to the second lieutenant and walked with me into the galley. “When they shift into bears, all their instincts are the instincts of a bear. They know they are human in bear form, but the longer they stay bears, the harder it is for them to remember the difference. They remained bears a very long time. They are trying to become human again.”

He poured some of the cook’s brutal coffee and added sugar to make it more palatable. “There is a story of the first woman to tame a shapeshifting bear.”

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