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  “Have you come in peace and trust?” she asked.

  He dipped his muzzle toward the earth.

  “Then rise and be man, Russell Tadzea,” she intoned.

  Russell stood and resumed his human shape. “Greetings,” he said. “I have brought a gift.”

  “We know,” the man said. “We thank you for the deer carcass. The scouts are bringing it for our evening meal. Will you stay and share meat with us?”

  “I will, if you welcome me,” he replied. Though the words were a ritual, Russell performed them with sincerity. They would smell exasperation on him.

  “We welcome you,” the woman replied. “Come into the cave.”

  Russell followed his escorts. Though he'd been raised here, once a bear left the community, he became as a stranger. Every visit provided a real threat to his life.

  Inside, no fire illuminated the mineral-smelling darkness. They had no need of it. Several creatures, some appearing to be human, others in bear form, reclined on the pine needles that littered the floor. One tall man rose to his full height.

  “Nephew,” he bellowed, and his human voice sounded like the roar of his other form.

  “Uncle.” As he had before, Russell bowed his head in submission. The larger man clapped him on the bare shoulder.

  “Why have you come?” he asked.

  “I would ask you a question,” Russell replied. “I think I may have met my mate.”

  His uncle roared with laughter. “You've become so human. If you think you have, you have. That's how it works. You scented her?”

  Russell took a deep breath. “Her scent captivates me until I can think of nothing else.”

  “Then she is the one. Will you bring her?”

  “Will you allow it?” Russell asked. “She's human.”

  His uncle blinked, face twisting in consternation. “Human? How can this be? Is she one of our kindred in the village?”

  Russell shook his head. “She's not even Alaskan. She teaches at the school in Golden.”

  This, apparently, was more than his uncle could take in. The towering man sank to his haunches with an exhalation that was part sigh, part snort. “I have never heard of such a thing. And yet, your description of her scent, of your reaction to it, is unmistakable. But why would the Sky Bear bring you a human?”

  “Perhaps she fears the bloodlines are growing too tightly connected,” Russell suggested. “An infusion of outside blood could be beneficial.”

  Though werebears were not exactly geneticists, they recognized the dangers of inbreeding, which was why, ages ago, a blending with the local Native tribe had been permitted. Now both groups' numbers had again fallen dangerously low.

  “There is sense in what you say,” Russell's uncle told him. “And besides, there's nothing you can do about it. If she is your mate, she is your mate. Claim her.”

  “I will,” Russell replied, if she'll have me.

  Chapter 3

  Two months passed. Nothing momentous marked the passage of time. Twice a week, Russ flew Riley from one location to another, and during that time they talked, slowly passing from acquaintances to friends. She remained reserved and shy, revealing little about her life or past, but the wait did not surprise or upset him. As nervous as Riley was, patience would be key. At night was a different story. Many times he approached her dreams and passed an uncomfortable night trapped in her ice prison with her. She didn't speak much at all, but he didn't mind. It was enough to be near her.

  The Wednesday before Thanksgiving, Russ did something he'd never considered. He entered Riley's classroom. Inside, chaos reigned.

  “Carl, don't even think about stepping outside without a coat on,” Riley said sharply, and a little copper-skinned boy froze in his tracks, halfway through the open door. Noting the rebellious look on the tiny boy's face, Russ grasped his shoulder and turned him around, gently propelling him back toward his teacher, who was holding a green Ninja Turtle puffer coat.

  Her eyes widened and she raised her gaze from kindergarten height, craning her neck to take in all six feet, six inches of Russell Tadzea.

  “Why are you here?” she asked as she mechanically tucked the pouting child into his jacket and zipped the zipper. The kid rocketed toward the door where a hall monitor waited to escort him to the pick-up area.

  “Bad storm coming in,” he replied. “If you don't get back home now, you'll probably be snowed in for a week.”

  Riley grimaced. He knew her overnight accommodation in this, the more remote of her two buildings, consisted of nothing more than a spare bedroom in a family's basement. Fine for two nights a week, but not much fun in the long term. Especially since one member of the household was a cranky and half-deaf grandmother who shouted all night long. Riley always looked exhausted when he picked her up on Thursdays.

  “I know,” she said, grabbing another kid by the hand, a little girl with two long black braids this time, and stuffing her into a miniature navy blue pea coat. The girl pulled on a hat that had kitten ears before hurrying into the hallway to wait.

  “You'd better hurry,” Russ urged. “We don't have much time. Remember, there's an hour flight between here and there.”

  “I know,” she snapped, bundling up a third kid. “Damien, I've told you not to do that.” On the other side of the room, a little blond kid froze, his hand against the yellow painted wall, where he appeared to be picking off a decoration in the shape of the letter B, covered in butterflies. “Come get your coat on.”

  The kid shuffled over to her and consented to be stuffed into his jacket.

  Russ scanned the room. Four tiny tots remained, milling aimlessly as they awaited help with their outerwear. The room itself possessed a suffocating brightness, at least to his ursine sensibilities. Too much color. Too many patterns. Overwhelmed, he quickly looked back at Riley. She had released the little vandal and moved on to the next kid. The wall picker looked to be headed the wrong direction. Russ placed a hand on the tiny back and urged him out the door.

  She has to hurry. He grabbed up a thin pink hoodie with a unicorn on it. Not nearly warm enough. It's below freezing outside. “Who wears this?” he asked. A girl with her dark hair cut in a bob like Dora the Explorer approached slowly, clearly intimidated by his height. Taking no time to soothe the child, he shoved her into the jacket and shooed her out the door just as Riley finished her last charge.

  “Come on,” he urged.

  She shook her head. “I have to be sure they get picked up safely.”

  “No,” he growled, unable to suppress a hint of his exasperated roar. Her head shot up. “These kids are local. They have an hour to get across town. You have to leave now.”

  “They're babies. I have to be sure they're safe.” Stubbornly she exited the room and walked the children outside.

  Damned fool woman, Russ thought. She doesn't even have her own jacket on. He scooped up her tan coat by its faux fur hood and followed.

  Outside, a cacophony of honking car horns – probably ten in total – and revving engines blended with the piping of adult and juvenile voices. Riley and the hall monitor, an elderly woman of obviously native descent, stood near the principal, directing kids to cars and bundled parents who had arrived on foot.

  “Dr. Wolf,” he said, drawing the principal's attention his direction.

  “Yes, Mr. Tadzea?” she replied, raising one dark eyebrow at him.

  “Miss Jenkins has to leave now. She has a long way to go. Doesn't her aid know all the kids?”

  “Everyone knows all the kids,” Dr. Wolf replied.

  “So can she go then? I don't want to be caught out in the storm,” he urged.

  Dr. Wolf nodded. “Yes, of course. Miss Jenkins, get out of here while you can,” she called. “We'll see you next Wednesday.”

  “Okay, thank you, Dr. Wolf,” Riley concurred.

  “Oh, Miss Jenkins,” Russ added.

  “Yes?” Her eyes met his. He held out her coat with a wry twist of his lips. She blushed and gr
abbed the garment before ducking back into the building. He rushed after her.

  “Now what?” he called, his voice echoing on the cinderblock walls and tile floor.

  “My purse,” she replied.

  Oh my Lord, women and their purses. Why can't they just shove a wallet in their pants? Rolling his eyes, Russell waited at the classroom door as Riley retrieved her purse from her desk drawer and dropped her ID and lanyard onto the desk.

  No sooner did she turn in his direction than he wrapped an arm around her waist and dragged her out the door. The school building stood, not in the town, but about a quarter mile away, to allow for expansion. The miniature runway sat next to the school, separated by a chain link fence. If I was a bear right now, I'd tear that shit down, he thought, but he couldn't do that in front of all these kids, and despite sharing dreams with Riley, he wasn't sure she was ready for it either. Cursing with every step, he led her around the fence and all but stuffed her through the door into his airplane. Only then did he dare use his superhuman speed to round the vehicle to the pilot's side and hurl himself into the seat. A quick adjustment of instruments and they were off, zooming down the runway and into the sky.

  Once he had pointed the nose toward their destination, he turned to Riley. She was staring at him with wide, startled eyes.

  “You all right?” he asked gruffly before turning his attention back to the horizon. Ahead, the sky had turned the color of gunmetal.

  “The storm was predicted to start at 2:30. That's why the kids were released from school at one. There should have been enough time. It's only 1:15, Russ. It will be tight, but we should make it.”

  He shook his head. “Forecast changed. Just got a message. Storm's coming sooner than they thought, but they're not making guesses. The wind is high and it's driving the clouds this way. Plus, it's barely freezing. No snow, not yet. That'll come later. This is going to be freezing rain. Lots of it.”

  Riley fell silent. Clearly she knew what that meant. He watched her out of his peripheral vision as her head turned slowly, scanning the sky ahead of them.

  “Will we make it?” she asked at last.

  “I doubt it,” he said.

  “I'm sorry.” He turned and found her looking at her lap. She does that so often. He reached out and placed his hand on hers, where it rested on her lap. Her head shot up, turning those startled eyes to him. The burn of tears was every bit as intoxicating as the burn of the liquor they resembled. “It's going to be all right, Riley. You're safe with me, remember? This old bear has more tricks than you can imagine. We're going to be fine.”

  Riley appeared to be frozen. Her thigh under his hand felt stiff as plywood. But her fingers moved, turning her hand over and grasping him.

  “Bear?” she asked, and the question had a pointed edge to it.

  “In a manner of speaking,” he replied.

  She didn't answer. In silence they flew south toward her home base, toward the cozy apartment she was renting. How had she described it? A one room apartment with a nice kitchen and laundry in the basement. Much more her own home than sharing with the Carroll family. He'd never seen it, but Riley had a way with words, even over the drone of the plane's engine, and had brought the space to life for him. I hope I can get her there tonight, but if not, my cabin is about halfway in between. We can land in the garden next door. Mrs. Tomei will kill me for flattening her squash plants, but the growing season is long done. I'll help her plant more next year.

  Russ put all his attention onto the airplane's controls, even though he didn't need to, just to keep his mind off the thick, undulating black clouds swirling on the horizon. The fact that they seemed to be racing his direction made him more than a little nervous.

  Ahead, a high, rocky hill, not quite a mountain, loomed in the gathering darkness. If I can get past that, I might be able to get her home, he thought, urging the little plane to fly faster…faster into the storm. Then the sound he dreaded. First, the patter of rain on the exterior. Then the mushy splat as the drops began to freeze in the sky. At last, tiny pellets pinged all around them.

  The plane grew heavy and sluggish as the freezing rain coated it, and the propellers did not like turning with a fat coating of ice. With the hill too far distant, he couldn't risk flying any farther. They would surely crash atop that peak and be left exposed, at too great a distance from any shelter. What do I know about that hill? How can it help us?

  Before it, the trees thinned to an irregularly shaped meadow. I can land. Worst case scenario, we stay in the plane until the freezing rain stops. Then we should be able to get to my cabin. What he hadn't told Riley, and he wasn't sure she knew, was that following close on the heels of this ice storm, a blizzard was brewing and would be reaching them shortly. Their window to relocate away from the weather would be even shorter than the one he had raced to bring her out here, but at least he had a foolproof backup plan.

  “Riley, I need to land here,” he said. “There's too much ice on the plane. But try not to panic, we're landing, not crashing.”

  “All right, Russ,” she agreed. “I trust you.” She reached across and took his hand, squeezing gently. He squeezed back before laying her chilly limb back on her lap and seizing the controls.

  With as much finesse as he could manage given the half-frozen propellers and rudder, he angled the plane toward the meadow. Riley's hands gripped together tightly and her lips were moving though no sound emerged. Russ had the distinct impression she was praying. The plane bucked and shuddered as they changed elevations, but he held steady on his speed and trajectory. Almost there. I can make it. Disaster struck before he was even aware it was coming. A thick, heavy branch from a tree just out of his peripheral vision smashed through the windshield at an angle, narrowly missing his arm as it embedded deep in the seat beside him. His grip slackened, creating a massive jolt and the resulting drop snapped the branch off from the tree, leaving it stranded like a stowaway in the cockpit.

  Grimly, Russ hung on. The wind and rain whistled through the shattered glass, making his lips feel numb, not to mention his fingers, which were half frozen, gloves or no. It took every last ounce of his strength and concentration to level out their trajectory and steer the plane to the ground at a safe angle. A couple of graceless bounces brought them to a stop directly below the towering boulder-laden hill.

  With a heavy sigh, Russ slumped in his seat. That was too close. His heart pounded and his bear threatened to rise up within him. He squashed down the beast. While the fur would be welcome in this cold, changing in the cockpit would not be wise. And you'd frighten Riley to death. Riley. He had almost forgotten she sat beside him. Turning quickly, he assessed her. Uninjured, clearly, but she looked shocky and her lips were a disturbing blue.

  Russ turned to their surroundings. With that broken windshield, the plane no longer provided any sort of shelter. But a dark depression in the rock in front of him stirred a half forgotten memory.

  “Stay here,” he urged. “I'll be right back.”

  The ice slapped him on the back of the neck, finding its way inside the leather of his jacket to tease his skin with half-frozen droplets. Again he longed for his furry coat, but this was not the moment. As he had hoped, the depression formed a shallow cave. A few bats, but the only larger creature was in a deep recess, sluggish and nearly sleeping. Russ sent a message to the grizzly. We're here as friends, brother. We will not bother your rest. Only let us shelter in the front of the cave an hour and we'll be on our way.

  The bear snorted a sleepy agreement. Satisfied, Russ returned to the plane, to Riley's side this time.

  “Come on,” he urged, knocking on the window. “You need to get out of the wind.” She didn't move. Even her shivering seemed to have stopped. “Damn it, Riley, get out of there before you freeze!”

  Nothing.

  Yanking open the door, Russ lifted Riley into his arms. She hardly shifted position, as though she actually were frozen. Got to hurry. No time to be timid. Russ engaged his superhum
an speed and raced along the slick and uneven ground, thankful it was rough, pebbly grass and not slippery pavement underneath. There was just enough traction to keep his sure, sneaker-clad feet steady. The rain fell harder, partially obscuring his vision, but his sharp animal senses would not be confused, and he entered the cave with a sigh.

  Russ set Riley on the floor. She lay unmoving, curled up in the fetal position, her hands tucked into the opposite armpits. She's too cold. I don't want to risk hypothermia. I have to warm her right away… but how? Only one way presented itself. Let's see how brave this girl really is.

  Quickly, Russ stripped away Riley's jacket and peeled the gloves from her clawed fingers. The thick leather and her quick thinking of tucking them in meant no signs of frostbite, though the skin was cold and red. Next he chucked her shoes into the corner. She can't preserve body heat unless she has some to capture. I'll give her mine instead.

  “Riley, love, can you hear me? Listen, no matter what you see or hear, you're still safe. I would never hurt you. I'm going to get you warm.”

  Russ stepped back, remaining in Riley's line of sight and stripped off his clothes. He would need them later. Then he changed, flesh stretching and body elongating, until a wild bear stood before the prone young woman. She didn't react in the slightest, so Russ dropped to his haunches and cuddled up as close to her as he could get, nestling her deep into his pelt so his body heat could reach her. Then, with nothing better to do, Russ closed his eyes.

  * * *

  He'd entered the dreaming from the same spot so many times that to open his inner eyes and see the grizzly's cave startled him. He felt a bit disoriented, whether from it not being night or from the adrenaline, he wasn't sure. He felt like he'd been in a fight. Then, as he gazed at the dim and rocky walls, he remembered. Ice storm. Plane. Riley… where is Riley?