Bear in a Bakery (Estes Park Shifters Book 1) Read online

  Seconds ticked by as she waited for a response, but her screen remained blank. Forty-eight hours ago, they’d had the Agency on their heels. They’d barely escaped. Such was the risk of delivering illegal pain medications to the sick and dying. Isla had never imagined a world where sharing an acetaminophen with someone could result in arrest and severe punishment.

  In the mad rush of their escape, Bjorn had convinced her to leave with the same argument he’d been making for weeks. She was terminally ill, and now the Agency had them on their radar. She needed to get away to die on her own terms, and not at the hands of the government. She’d finally agreed, and in a flash, she’d been stuffed into this car and driven far away.

  “Please be okay, Bjorn,” she whispered as she held the phone against her chest.

  She didn’t want these last seconds with him to be clouded with anything but the love and gratitude in her heart. She had to believe her brother was safely in hiding. Soon, she would be too, and death could come peacefully instead of at the hands of the Medical Enforcement Agency who hunted them.

  Or worse, by the natural progression of her debilitating disease.

  The LED light on her phone flashed. She gasped in relief.

  I love you, too, Isla. Tell Gavin hello for me. Twenty seconds.

  Jesus, twenty seconds? No… ten now, nine… the screen started to break with static. Six… five… her tears ran as the phone flashed with brilliant light and fizzled to black. She flipped it over and removed the battery, pulled a little tab in the compartment and put the battery back. A tendril of smoke curled up from the device, the plastic getting hot in her hand. But she couldn’t seem to let go of it.

  She didn’t want to let go.

  “Toss it before it combusts and takes your hand with it.”

  She jerked at the driver’s voice. The window on her right lowered from a button he must have pressed up front.

  “Goodbye, Bjorn,” she whispered and threw the phone. It landed in the snow and burst into flame. Isla watched the orange glow flicker until she lost visual. Cold air rippled across her face as the driver closed the window.

  A wave of overwhelming grief filled her chest. She’d just said goodbye to her brother, her last living relative.

  Forever.

  “Miss?”

  Isla hiccupped around the lump in her throat. She couldn’t give in to the rise of emotions inside. Wiping her eyes, she steeled herself.

  “You’re not supposed… not supposed to talk to me.”

  She’d been instructed not to interact with the driver and assumed the same went for him. Curious, though, she’d been sneaking peaks at the graying man in the driver’s seat. Bjorn had told her the driver had been taking people to the Resting House for four years—driving people in, but of course, never out. He, Bjorn, and Gavin Perry were the only people who knew where the House was and what went on there.

  She’s be safe there. As safe as a dead woman could be.

  Looking up front, she caught the man’s eyes in the rearview mirror.

  “I have instructions for you, miss.” His voice was gravely but amicable. Isla held his gaze and nodded for him to continue. Bjorn hadn’t said anything about instructions.

  His forehead furrowed above bushy eyebrows. “About the SVH.”

  She trembled.

  “The SVH hunt from dusk until dawn. The woods around the House are not safe during those hours. Stay inside or you’re a free meal… unless, pardon my bluntness, that’s how you’re hoping to go.”

  She shook her head. Shifter-vampire hybrids, SVH, or Ahpret as they called themselves, were highly predatory in their hunting state. Though she’d come to find one, Gavin Perry, she didn’t intend to meet him while he was starving.

  “Bjorn told you about the other risk? The hunters?” He didn’t wait for her to respond as he looked away from the mirror. “The House looks like any other cabin, so to outsiders, it could be any other Ahpret residence. I can’t say one won’t show up at your door expecting to find an SVH inside. They’re getting braver, encroaching on the reserve more in their desperation. You may need to protect yourself.”

  Something about the way he said, “desperation,” gave her pause. She crossed her arms and huffed a humorless laugh. Screw the no-interacting rule. She couldn’t sit here and have a one-sided conversation. Besides, the more they travelled, the more her melancholy spiked and made each second more precious. Isla wiped at her wet cheeks, but the trickle of tears didn’t wane. These moments held her last interactions with another human.

  “My brother said that all the Ahpret have left the reserve for Canada.”

  One side of the driver’s mouth twitched before falling into a serious line.

  “The Alpha is still here and if he’s hanging around, I’d bet there are more. He’s in line to be their new King. The SVH are loyal. They won’t abandon their leader.”

  Isla had grown up immersed in rumors and grand stories about the SVH of the North Reserve. Humans were enthralled by them, but wary, a sort of like watching a lion behind iron bars. Whispers of humans trespassing onto the very edges of the ten-thousand-acre North were spooky bedtime stories. Media footage of desiccated human remains sent back to the human side were grisly reality.

  Everything within the reserve was secretive, and they protected their rights to the land with an untoward fierceness. Despite fears of the Ahpret ingrained from childhood, Bjorn had never spoken a negative word about his shifter friend.

  “Are you talking about Gavin Perry?”

  She’d never met the mysterious Gavin, but her brother had relayed enough about their time together in the war that she felt as if she knew him.

  He didn’t respond. Not liking the sudden silence, Isla straightened in her seat and leaned forward.

  “What should I do if a hunter shows up?”

  Desperation made people do stupid, dangerous things. Like encroach on Ahpret land and hunt them for their narcotic-like serum.

  He shrugged. “Pray.”

  Hugging herself, Isla glanced out the window. “Why did you put yourself at risk by driving people here? Aren’t you fearful the Agency will find out?”

  He navigated a sharp turn and turned off the headlights as the car slowed.

  “I believed in what your brother and the Alpha did here.”

  The car rolled to a stop. A heavy silence filled the air. The back of her neck prickled. Isla squinted through the dim light. They were still on the main road, no sign of a cabin or even a path to one.

  “This is as far as I can take you.”

  Her brow furrowed. “Seriously? Do you always just drop sick people off and — “

  “Pardon, miss, but you’re not that sick.”

  Her nostrils flared as she scrambled for something to say. Not that sick? How could he possibly know the turmoil going on in the cryptic recesses of her brain? The debilitating pain, the ripping, searing agony… the blood.

  She wanted to spit out a sharp retort, but what was the point? She’d be dead in a couple of days, give or take. A flicker of everything—everyone—she’d left behind flashed in her mind.

  “Look, the last few miles, I’ve had a sense of being watched. If I take the access road, I risk exposing us both. You’re still upright, able to walk on your own. Go due west, half a mile or so.”

  It was true; she could walk. She functioned like any healthy, able-bodied adult until the pain came and robbed her of everything. Her pulse ticked up as she wiped a circle on the foggy window and looked out. Daylight was quickly fading.

  “It’s almost dusk. You expect me to walk through a forest during SVH feeding time?”

  “No,” he twisted in the seat to hand her a heavy metal flashlight, and a key. “I expect you to run.”

  His irises were intense with a shimmery glow from the filtered, dying sunlight. Deep crow’s feet framed his eyes. There was no sympathy there.

  Hard shivers raced over her body as if she’d gone cold from the inside out.

 
; Coming face-to-face with an Ahpret was really the thing of nightmares. They could out run you, out stalk you, chase you down. Sink their fangs in your neck and drain your body dry before shifting and ripping you into pieces. Like they did in the war. Or so the stories went.

  That was on behalf of our country—our broken, crumbling country, she reminded herself as she swallowed hard and cracked the door. The irony of that thought put a bitter taste in her mouth. The very nation the Ahpret had fought to protect had now turned against them in the worst possible way.

  Plus… it was dinner time.

  Isla clung to the driver’s gaze as she opened the door. As soon as she stepped out of the car, she’d sever her last tie to civilization. To life.

  “Hurry now,” he urged gently. “You wouldn’t want the beast to get you.”

  Lifting the strap to her small duffel over her shoulder, Isla edged out of the car. A slap of crisp air hit her face and burned down her throat. The car edged forward, the driver’s gaze turned coldly indifferent. He accelerated. Isla jumped back, the car door slamming shut with the forward movement.

  “This is as far as I can take you.”

  Her brow furrowed. “Seriously? Do you always just drop sick people off and – “

  “Pardon, miss, but you’re not that sick.”

  Her nostrils flared as she scrambled for something to say. Not that sick? How could he possibly know the turmoil going on in the cryptic recesses of her brain? The debilitating pain, the ripping, searing agony… the blood.

  She wanted to spit out a sharp retort, but what was the point? She’d be dead in a couple of days, give or take. A flicker of everything—everyone—she’d left behind flashed in her mind.

  “Look, the last few miles, I’ve had a sense of being watched. If I take the access road, I risk exposing us both. You’re still upright, able to walk on your own. Go."

  Her heart raced as he sped away.

  Isla pulled shallow breaths through her nose as she looked side-to-side. Fear had become a ridiculously common element to her routine life. As doctors, she and Bjorn had quietly done whatever they could to treat the sick while under constant threat of being caught by the Agency.

  This was a different type of fear—the raw, primal kind that happened when you were literally at risk for fighting for your life against something that would pick its teeth with your bones.

  Something snapped to her left. With a start, she fumbled with the flashlight and clicked it on. There was enough daylight that the shine of the light did little, but the weight of it in her hands was comforting. As if she could club an Ahpret and even hope to get away.

  Tucking her chin to her chest, Isla hunched her shoulders and headed west. If she were lucky, she had a couple hours yet before the pain would start, and she wanted to be safely in a bed before it happened.

  Her boots made a soft crunch through the snow. It sounded ridiculously loud in the stillness. Struggling to regulate her breathing, Isla focused her gaze in the direction she needed to go. Long, narrow tree trunks and the skeletal bushes jumbled together in the dying light, creating a disorienting path. She resisted the strong urge to look behind her. There was nothing behind her worth seeing. The car was gone, the driver gone. Her brother, far, far away from these woods. The only thing she had left was what lie ahead.

  The underbrush suddenly thinned. Isla paused mid-step as the canopy of branches above widened. Puffs of snow fell from above, twinkling in a renewed burst of light and revealing a narrow and clear expanse of snow before her.

  A path.

  Awed, and certain this was a trick of light, Isla paused, uncertain, as if the canopy might snap closed and hide the path. Light snow continued to rain down like glitter, a soft breeze ruffling the branches.

  Listening for animal life, she was a bit concerned that the woods remained silent. She was no expert on non-city life, but as far as she was from civilization, she expected more. Birds chirping. Squirrels hopping through the branches. Bunnies scurrying about.

  Cinderella’s woodland critters type stuff.

  Did the lack of activity mean something ominous? She didn’t want to know; hurried down the path until it finally narrowed, its clean surface broken by a zig-zag line of small tracks in the snow. Deer tracks, maybe? Something with thin enough legs and small hooves to so delicately break the snow.

  Suddenly, the snow gave way beneath her. She sank to her knees, the handle of her canvas bag snagged on a low branch. Isla twisted and pulled, momentum throwing her backward as the branch snapped with a loud crack and the bag slid free. She sunk into the snow on her butt, hands flying to her sides to support herself. Panting, she scurried to right herself but the bulk of her jacket and depth of snow made each movement slow and awkward. The still, cold air became stifling as she struggled to get up. Finally pushing to her feet, Isla exhaled a deep breath and grabbed her bag.

  And stopped dead.

  A tall shadow caught the corner of her eye. Whipping a look that way, she caught something darting behind the trees. Her mind raced to catch up with what her eyes had seen. It looked human—broad shoulders, a broad chest; two legs. Tall. Too tall for a human.

  Shit!

  She’d been spotted. Afraid any movement would bring attention to herself, but knowing she had no other choice, Isla cautiously turned back to the path and took a few steps. Side-eying the place where the shadow had been, she advanced a little more, tempted to run but forcing a slower pace. If it was an Ahpret, she didn’t want to be chased.

  Above, a bird called as it burst from the branches. Glancing up, she spied a large black bird alighting from branch to branch, its weight making the snow fall. It cocked its sharp head as if it was looking at her… waiting.

  It flapped its wings and cawed loudly before swooping down and circling her before zooming back up to the branches.

  Pushing past her fear Isla clamored through the snow as the bird hopped and flew from tree top to tree top above it ahead of her. When it took a sharp left, going deeper into the forest, she put all sense of realism aside and followed. She couldn’t stop looking back this time though, positive something was going to pounce on her back and drag her down.

  When the trees thinned with the barest parting of branches, she came face-to-face with the Resting House. It seemed to appear out of nowhere, so perfectly set in the middle of thick pines that it took on the perfect camouflage. The siding was a strange beige/white that made it hard to distinguish from the snowy surroundings. The metal roof was a neatly blended shade of green. Dark wood trim and a door that looked like it was covered in bark from a white pine furthered the efforts to assimilate the cabin into the surroundings.

  Digging the key from her pocket, Isla glanced up to see the bird sitting on the porch railing. Its beady eyes blinked with reptilian quickness, the small orbs taking on a human blush with the depth of inquisitive light. Did she… did she really believe the bird had led her here?

  The snap of branches filled the air. The bird squawked and startled from its perch. A low rumble sounded from the ominous depths of the forest.

  Fuck.

  Bursting into action, Isla fumbled to unlock the door. The lock gave way; she tumbled inside. Catching herself, she hurried to close the door, faltered against its unexpected weight. It was thick and shut hard against the jamb with a metallic clang. Three dead bolts waited to be locked.

  Three? With a shudder, she engaged them all then pressed her back to the wall and listened.

  The snow crunched, branches snapped like fragile bones. Heavy breathing paused as if it too, were listening.

  For her.

  A squeak on the porch. Another followed by a thud. Shuffling. And then, quiet.

  Would it try to get in? Death was sacred to the Ahpret, at least from her brother’s report. They killed their enemies without mercy. But those who sought death or offered themselves as a sacrifice to a hungry beast had to give permission before the Ahpret could act. Her brother hadn’t said if an Ahpret would break int
o the cabin. It likely depended on if it saw her as an enemy, or a willing victim.

  Isla breathed slowly through her nose, her chest and throat burning with the need to draw and exhale full breaths.

  Suddenly, the wall vibrated with the force of something banging it from the outside. She screeched and scrambled away, covering her head with her arms as if the entire house might come down.

  “Don’t come out until dawn!”

  The barked words were a mangled mixture of human speech and animalistic growl, the resonance of it bringing terrified tears to her eyes.

  They fell, wetting her cheeks, dipping into her lips as she curled herself as tightly as she could. Pain began to uncurl at the base of her skull, a familiar precursor to what was to come. Her thoughts shifted from fear over the Ahpret to dread over what the next few hours would bring. The pain would become excruciating, reducing her to a moaning, writing mess on the floor. Sweat lined her hairline, weakness swept over her body, tipping her onto her side in a fetal position. Her screams would draw the monster back.

  Maybe death would come early tonight.

  ~ ~ ~

  WINTER SHIFT and the Shock Collar series are available on Kindle Unlimited!