Page 27 of Bad Blood Bear

Chapter 12

Tank grabbed Lissa as she convulsed and held her close in his arms. Her screams hurt his sensitive ears, but all he could think about was soothing her terror.

He carried her outside into the open space next to the fire pit, knowing that if her first shift happened indoors, surrounded by other animals, her bear would be even more terrified. Her teeth and claws had shifted, and she raked parallel scratches down his ribcage. Her teeth fastened on his arm, blood running in rivulets down his skin.

“Dammit,” he muttered. “Somebody get her mouth.”

Flynn was right behind him, and he dug his fingers into hinge of Lissa’s jaws and forced them apart. As soon as Tank’s arm was free, Flynn brought his big hand over her mouth, holding it closed.

“Oh, no, darlin’,” he muttered. “Bad bear.”

Tank held on to Lissa. He could feel her bones breaking, feel her flesh undulating as she tried to shift. He laid her on the ground, talking to her the whole time. “It’s okay. Let her out. Let’s see what we’ve got here.”

Her eyes were wide open, and they had that horrible flame-red glow. She fought and snarled, no intelligence in her eyes. Just fury. Her flesh looked like it was bubbling, but she didn’t Change.

She was stuck between forms, and it was tearing her apart.

“Holy fuck,” Xander muttered, skidding to a stop a few feet away, the others a step behind him. “What the hell is with the demon eyes?”

“Magic, I think,” Flynn said. Blue fire was beginning to dance around his hands again, and there was a muffled howl from Lissa. “Shit,” he said. “Somebody else keep her from biting. I’m hurting her.”

Xander stepped in and grabbed Lissa’s mouth. Flynn slid his hand out and backed away, shaking it like he’d gotten an electric shock.

Tank ignored all that. His focus was on Lissa, talking to her like he’d always talked to his friend Tristan when he went crazy wolf and couldn’t change back.

“It’s okay,” he said, stroking Lissa’s back over and over again. “Stay human,” he said. “Push her back. You’re not ready yet. You can be human again. Come on, babe. You can do it.”

The screaming tapered off to whimpers, but her muscles were still locked, trembling with the effort of fighting the bear. Finally the red glow faded from her eyes, and Lissa went limp.

Tank carried her into the house, straight through the living area and down the hall to his bedroom. His bed was a California king, the only kind he could really be comfortable in. He pulled her sneakers off and tucked her in. She looked so small lying there in the big bed, her wild spirit quenched. He was suddenly seized by a desire to curl up next to her and hold her safe in his arms until the whole world went away.

Protect her!

He couldn’t. He didn’t even know what was wrong with her. Still, he couldn’t seem to tear himself away.

Instead, he stroked back her hair. “You’re safe now, Lissa,” he said, hoping it was true. “Go to sleep. You’ll feel better later, when you wake up.”

He hoped that was true too.

Flynn was standing in the doorway, obviously waiting to talk to him, so Tank stroked one more strand of hair back and forced himself to follow Flynn out to the living room. The rest were all there, perched on the backs of chairs or at the barstools at the kitchen island.

“Is she okay?” Sloan asked.

Tank leaned on the wall, right near the hallway to the bedrooms. It was as far away from Lissa as he could bring himself to go. He shook his head.

“Of course she’s not okay,” he said, angry at the helpless feeling inside him. “Some bastard Turned her without her consent, and her bear’s stuck halfway. How the fuck is she supposed to be okay?”

Her screams were still echoing in his head, and he could feel his bear getting riled up.

The others looked troubled. They might be assholes, and halfway insane, but one thing they all had in common was a hatred of anyone who abused shifters. They’d all suffered too much to let that shit happen to anyone else if they could stop it.

“Who is this guy?” Xander asked. “Is he coming after her?” He paused, then added hopefully, “Can we kill him?”

“He’s a crazy rogue shifter from Arkansas who thinks he’s a god,” Tank growled. “And no, you can’t kill him. I’m killing him.”

“I’ll fight you for it,” Xander suggested. “Winner gets to kill him.”

“He might already be dead,” Tank said, thinking back on what Lissa had told him. “She’s having trouble remembering the night she was Turned, but I know she was holding something back—something big. What if she killed him?”