Tracking the Bear (Blue Ridge Bears Book 1)(10)

That was going to be more difficult than she could imagine, but I was never going to get a better deal than that so I latched onto it.

“It’s a date.”

***

Several hours and awkward conversation topics later we were approaching Elizabethtown, our last stop before Louisville, Kentucky where I had planned to turn in for the night. The cheery blue skies of the morning and late afternoon were turning grey as we headed further north toward Ohio. Heavy rain clouds pressed down over us. My bear shifted uneasily and I could feel its desire to seek shelter. A storm was rolling in.

“I thought you were a country boy!” She crowed when I finally admitted that I lived in Southaven, Mississippi.

“For the last ten years. But before that I lived in Alaska with my parents and two sisters. I’m not sure if I qualify.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Alaska? Really, what was that like?”

“Cold,” I said with a laugh. “But very beautiful. We lived miles from any major city, but we preferred it that way. It was harder for the zoophobics and the zoophiles to find us up there.”

Her head whipped up from the burger she’d been attempting to unwrap.

“Zoophiles? Those groupies attracted to shifters?”

“And their counterparts on the other side of the fence, the zoophobics, yeah.”

Her mouth was hanging slightly open in an unflattering expression of shock. “That means that you’re…”

“A shifter, yes,” I concluded, hoping she hadn’t noticed the edge of bitterness that had entered my voice. Of course, it couldn’t be simple. She’d been raised in the south, where the most violence toward shifters was perpetrated. It was part of why I’d taken the job. Of course my mate would hate shifters.

“Oh, don’t get your panties in a bunch,” she huffed, glimpsing the look on my face. “I just didn’t expect it at all. That’s something you should lead with, I think.”

“What did you want me to say? Hello, I’m Chance Kassower. I enjoy skiing, chess and turning into a bear when the fancy strikes me.”

She actually threw her head back and laughed. “Okay, when you put it like that way, it sounds a little ridiculous.”

“Exactly.” The tension in my body eased a little. “You really don’t hate me for being a shifter?”

“From what I understand, it isn’t something you can help, right? Any more than I could help being blonde, or brother can help being a douchebag. Sometimes we’re just born this way.”

I filed the douchebag comment away for later questioning. There was a story there, but now was not the time to press for it.

“You’re right. It’s not something I can help.”

She nodded wisely. “So, I don’t see the point in getting fussed about it. But if we’re going on a date later, you really should tell me the truth from now on.”

My stomach squirmed in discomfort and I turned the radio on before she could wring any promises from me. I wanted to be honest with her, but there were certain things I couldn’t share. Like the orders passed down regarding her brother.

I tried to focus on the bubblegum oldies channel I’d been listening to before I’d spotted her car on the side of the road. It wasn’t easy, though. Lucy sat in relative silence, taking bites of her burger as we continued on toward Louisville.

After an irritatingly long string of ads, the local commentator began to read the latest news announcements.

“New updates from the Columbus Police Department in regards to the violent murder that was perpetrated at the university on Wednesday…”

I nearly jammed the button down. No, no, no this isn’t how she was supposed to find out. Lucy batted my hand away from the dial before I could reach it.

“I want to listen to something else,” I said tightly.

“Tough,” she shot back. “This might have something to do with Luke. I’m listening to the rest of it.”

It had everything to do with Luke Elmsong and that was the problem. I wondered how she hadn’t heard the story already, but considering the deplorable state her car had been in, it was entirely possible she hadn’t been able to listen to the media coverage of the event.

“Police have identified Luke Elmsong, the deceased’s former roommate, as a person of interest in this case. Local police are coordinating with members of the Thing in an attempt to bring him in for questioning.”

“The thing?” she echoed. “What’s that?”

“It’s a Council of were-animals,” I said, finally. “It comes from old Norse tradition. They uphold the law and dispatch members of the community to mete it out.”

She turned ever so slowly to fix me with an accusatory stare. I had never seen such a remote expression on a human face before. I nearly flinched at the ice in her tone when she spoke.

“What do you know about this?” she demanded, jabbing a finger at the radio.

I didn’t answer, and the radio announcer continued, laying the damning truth out in wake of my silence.

Campus security identified Luke Elmsong fleeing the scene of the crime the morning after it occurred. Officials say they will be on the lookout for Elmsong, and will alert us if he is caught. On a related, but sadder note, the wake of Keith Page will be held on campus a week from Saturday…