sense of community together. High hopes , he thought.
“I appreciate it,” the Beta offered Jimmy, but his thoughts were elsewhere. He almost didn’t feel his cellphone vibrating in the breast pocket of his leather jacket and held up his finger to the mechanic for a moment. “Yeah, this is Blake, what’s up?”
Gavin’s voice came across on the other end. The kid sounded rough, like he was half-breathing into the phone, and he was panting. Blake knew at once that something wrong—the usual vivacity in his protégé’s voice was gone, mixed with a sort of weariness and pain.
“Blake, that you? Christ, thank god…” he whispered on the other hand.
“Gavin, what the fuck? What’s going on? Why do you sound like you just ran a marathon?”
“Kinda got cornered,” Gavin gulped. “Didn’t see ‘em coming.”
Blake’s stomach dropped and he felt a wellspring of anger bubble forth from some subterranean part of his mind—the part that was devoted to his inner bear . He tried to calm his voice so that Gavin wouldn’t pick up on it.
“Just explain what happened. Where are you?”
Gavin seemed in a stupor. “Uh… where? Right, uh… I’m, I’m at the gravel pit. Thought it was a good place, y’know? No one comes here. Wasn’t followed, I don’t think, I hope. Uh… Blake, man. The fuck, we’re all fucked.”
“Just stay there,” Blake barked, and slammed the phone shut. Jimmy looked at him incredulously—if he’d been born a bear like the rest of them, Blake thought, he wouldn’t have lasted this long. In the Ursa Majors, in all tribes, it was survival of the fittest. It didn’t matter how smart you were, how kind. Those things would just as soon get you killed. And still, I feel pity for Jimmy , he thought. “Toss me the keys, Jim.”
“Problem?”
“Always a goddamn problem,” he growled, swinging his leg over the Harley and switching the ignition—the black vesper of a vehicle growled impatiently, and he felt the horsepower of the engine biting at its bit to be let free. “Thanks again,” he shouted at the mechanic as he tore out into the street and headed south.
The wind whipped at his face as he cruised down the open highway, and he let it rake through the bristles of his hair, but it did little to alleviate the ball of wrath growing in his stomach. He didn’t know the details, precisely, but he could at least guess at them—Gavin had been ambushed, either by a rogue gang or by other members of the Ursa Majors. It was something he had feared, and hadn’t dared to actually believe could really happen. Melissa and Connor surely wouldn’t go so far as to brutalize members of the gang , he thought. And yet—he could not detach himself entirely from the peril of possibility.
“Hell,” he murmured again, cranking hard on the throttle.
The gravel pit was just outside of the town limits, and was a notorious hangout for teenagers and high school students to get drunk on the weekends or experiment with their first toke on a joint. It was also a good place to reconvene after a job, or if the cops—in one of their rare pursuits—decided to chase them as far as their territory. Blake slowed and pulled off onto the dirt road and idled into the open pit area, his eyes trained not just for signs of Gavin, but for any other unexpected guests.
As he came around the corner, however, he saw his friend sitting on the slope of a gravel pit, his bike parked beside him, and as he drew nearer saw the telltale signs of blood on the younger bear’s face.
“Blake,” he murmured, when he saw the Beta approaching.
Gavin leered at him through one eye that was half-swollen shut, and his jaw was ripening with a fresh bruise as well. There was blood on his leather jacket that had already dried, and not all his own, but the cuts on his face and near his scalp were deep and clotted dark.
“Geezus,” Blake said, approaching and examining the damage. “Who did this?”
Gavin shrugged. “I-I
“I appreciate it,” the Beta offered Jimmy, but his thoughts were elsewhere. He almost didn’t feel his cellphone vibrating in the breast pocket of his leather jacket and held up his finger to the mechanic for a moment. “Yeah, this is Blake, what’s up?”
Gavin’s voice came across on the other end. The kid sounded rough, like he was half-breathing into the phone, and he was panting. Blake knew at once that something wrong—the usual vivacity in his protégé’s voice was gone, mixed with a sort of weariness and pain.
“Blake, that you? Christ, thank god…” he whispered on the other hand.
“Gavin, what the fuck? What’s going on? Why do you sound like you just ran a marathon?”
“Kinda got cornered,” Gavin gulped. “Didn’t see ‘em coming.”
Blake’s stomach dropped and he felt a wellspring of anger bubble forth from some subterranean part of his mind—the part that was devoted to his inner bear . He tried to calm his voice so that Gavin wouldn’t pick up on it.
“Just explain what happened. Where are you?”
Gavin seemed in a stupor. “Uh… where? Right, uh… I’m, I’m at the gravel pit. Thought it was a good place, y’know? No one comes here. Wasn’t followed, I don’t think, I hope. Uh… Blake, man. The fuck, we’re all fucked.”
“Just stay there,” Blake barked, and slammed the phone shut. Jimmy looked at him incredulously—if he’d been born a bear like the rest of them, Blake thought, he wouldn’t have lasted this long. In the Ursa Majors, in all tribes, it was survival of the fittest. It didn’t matter how smart you were, how kind. Those things would just as soon get you killed. And still, I feel pity for Jimmy , he thought. “Toss me the keys, Jim.”
“Problem?”
“Always a goddamn problem,” he growled, swinging his leg over the Harley and switching the ignition—the black vesper of a vehicle growled impatiently, and he felt the horsepower of the engine biting at its bit to be let free. “Thanks again,” he shouted at the mechanic as he tore out into the street and headed south.
The wind whipped at his face as he cruised down the open highway, and he let it rake through the bristles of his hair, but it did little to alleviate the ball of wrath growing in his stomach. He didn’t know the details, precisely, but he could at least guess at them—Gavin had been ambushed, either by a rogue gang or by other members of the Ursa Majors. It was something he had feared, and hadn’t dared to actually believe could really happen. Melissa and Connor surely wouldn’t go so far as to brutalize members of the gang , he thought. And yet—he could not detach himself entirely from the peril of possibility.
“Hell,” he murmured again, cranking hard on the throttle.
The gravel pit was just outside of the town limits, and was a notorious hangout for teenagers and high school students to get drunk on the weekends or experiment with their first toke on a joint. It was also a good place to reconvene after a job, or if the cops—in one of their rare pursuits—decided to chase them as far as their territory. Blake slowed and pulled off onto the dirt road and idled into the open pit area, his eyes trained not just for signs of Gavin, but for any other unexpected guests.
As he came around the corner, however, he saw his friend sitting on the slope of a gravel pit, his bike parked beside him, and as he drew nearer saw the telltale signs of blood on the younger bear’s face.
“Blake,” he murmured, when he saw the Beta approaching.
Gavin leered at him through one eye that was half-swollen shut, and his jaw was ripening with a fresh bruise as well. There was blood on his leather jacket that had already dried, and not all his own, but the cuts on his face and near his scalp were deep and clotted dark.
“Geezus,” Blake said, approaching and examining the damage. “Who did this?”
Gavin shrugged. “I-I
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