Black Bear Revolution: A BWWM Paranormal Romance (Black Bear Saga Book 3) Read online

  Black Bear Revolution

  Black Bear Saga 3

  Tia Wilson

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Mailing list

  Dedication

  Epigraph

  Grace & Tom

  The Hunters

  Grace & Tom

  The Hunters

  Grace & Tom

  The Hunters

  Grantham & Malory - 1888

  Grace & Tom

  Grantham & Malory - 1888

  Grace & Tom

  Grantham & Malory - 1888

  Tulimak

  The Hunters

  Grace & Tom

  Grantham & Malory - 1888

  Grace & Tom

  Grantham & Malory - 1888

  Grace & Tom

  Epigraph

  About the Author

  Also by Tia Wilson

  Also by Tia Wilson

  Authors Page

  BLACK BEAR REVOLUTION

  * * *

  by Tia Wilson

  Copyright © 2016 by Tia Wilson

  Cover Design by Superkawaii

  Book design by Tia Wilson

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  First Published: July 2016

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  For my Nana. You were the first one to ever believe in me. You make all strong independent women proud.

  “Forgiving does not erase the bitter past. A healed memory is not a deleted memory. Instead, forgiving what we cannot forget creates a new way to remember. We change the memory of our past into a hope for our future.”

  Lewis B. Smedes

  1

  Grace & Tom

  Graces feet sank into the soft soil at the edge of the riverbank, as she ran for her life. She leapt across the slow moving river and landed on the other side as the bank began to crumble under her. She heard the soft soil splash into the water behind her as she cleared the patch of loose earth and began to run through waist high grass.

  Clouds of insects rose in shimmering black clouds as she sprinted through the grass. Her speed was reduced as the thick foliage began to slow her down. Her chest burned from the exertion and she glanced back over her shoulder hoping to see Tom closing in behind her. The world tilted and a flash of sky spun over her as she tripped over a rock hidden in the grass. Grace hit the ground hard and her knee smashed into a shard of rock sticking out of the ground. She rolled over onto her back and tried to catch her breath as the first tendrils of dull pain throbbed from her busted knee.

  The knee of her jeans was shredded and a cut looking like a red toothed grin split across the skin over her kneecap. Grace winced in agony as she pulled away a few strands of grass embedded in the cut. Blood was starting to flow freely from the cut as she tried to steady her breathing. Grace stood up and tried to put pressure on her injured leg and she squeezed her eyes shut as pain screeched through her body.

  She looked back across the open expanse to the place where the crashed car lay on it's roof. Everything was obscured by a cloud of dust that had been kicked up. Her mouth felt dry and dusty as she tried to swallow and tear herself away from looking back.

  You have to keep moving, she thought to herself as she took another limping step forward.

  She turned away and hobbled another few steps and stopped, frozen to the spot.

  I can't leave Tom behind, she thought, as she stared back at the distant dust cloud. Inside that obscuring cloud of dust she knew that Tom was fighting for his life to give her a chance to get back to Twin rock and warn the others. You must keep going she thought as she took a few more steps forward.

  Every step sent shock waves of pain though her body and she felt nauseous from the shooting jolts coming from her injured knee. Through the intense pain Grace kept on moving forward as tears ran down her cheeks and warm blood rolled down her leg and into her shoe.

  Grace looked back and felt her body seize up like an animal caught in a passing cars headlights. From the centre of the distant cloud of dust a black shape burst forth and began heading in her direction. She turned and began to run as fast as possible, her injured leg dragging behind her as she grunted with each sledgehammer shock of pain.

  The bear was closing the gap between them fast, its tongue hanging from its mouth as it ran on all fours. Grace glanced back and the bear was close to the river she had jumped over. She heard the bear splash into the river and then a couple of seconds later it was back heading in her direction.

  I'm not going to make it she thought as she looked desperately around for a place to hide. The edge of a forest was close by but with her injured knee she knew she would never make it on time. Grace ducked down into the tall grass and crawled away from where she had been running. The ground beneath her began to vibrate with a deep thud as the bear got closer.

  Grace stopped and tried to stay perfectly still. She clutched her hand to her mouth to hide the noise of her breathing. All she could see was the tall grass surrounding her and a small patch of the sky above. The grass in front of her shook as the bear sped past. She held her breath. The bear continued on its way without slowing down.

  Grace allowed herself to breathe.

  The bear roared and cut through the silence of the grassy plain. A flock of birds flew from their resting place close by and chirped loudly as they flew above Graces small patch of visible sky. Grace felt a rumble in the ground again.

  It's coming back she thought, as she moved slowly backwards from her hiding spot.

  The grass in front of her shook and then parted as the snout of a bear poked through and sniffed deeply. Graces hands scrabbled about for something to smash over its head. Her hand grasped a baseball size rock and she held it before her. An inadequate weapon against an animal as large as the bear.

  The bear took a step forward and his whole head came through the swaying wall of grass in front of Grace. Her hand shook as she raised it up, about to lash out in any way she could.

  The bear looked at her with its dark eyes and cocked its head to the side like a dog waiting for an order.

  Could it be Tom she thought trying to see any of the man she loved in the animal before her.

  The stone fell from her hand as she let go of it. She could feel no malevolence coming from this animal. The bear came closer and sniffed her hand and then licked her hand with its large tongue. Grace reached forward and ran her fingers through the fur on the side of the bears head and stroked it gently. The fur was matted and damp from its dip in the river. The bear nudged her hand gently and stepped forward. Grace slung her arms around the bears neck and hugged it tightly.

  "It's you isn't it Tom?" Grace said. "You smell like a wet dog," she said and started to laugh.

  The bear let out a low rumble that sounded like a cats purr amplified a hundred fold.

  When she let go of his neck the bear reared up on its hind legs and looked back in the direction of the crash, its ears sticking up as it listened. Water ran off its wet fur and patches stood out in fuzzy clumps. The bear fell back down on all fours and shook its massive body spraying a fine mist of water everywhere. It looked at Grace with its mouth open and its pin
k tongue hanging out. The bear approached and nudged Grace to stand up. She stood up on shaky legs.

  "I'm injured. I cant go on much farther," she said.

  The bear walked up beside her and pressed its huge flank against her and nudged her with its head.

  I can't believe I'm doing this Grace thought as she threw her leg over the bear and sat on his wide back. An image of her old life sitting at her desk in a nondescript office flashed into her mind and it seemed so very far away from her now.

  The bear swayed from side to side and Grace gripped on with her legs and grabbed two handfuls of fur between the bears shoulder blades. As soon as she held on tightly the bear started to run. Grass whipped by them as the bear loped along and started to gain speed. Grace bounced up and down and tried to hold onto the bear with her legs. She looked back and could see two dark figures climbing the incline back up to the main road.

  Her hands were sweating and her legs began to tire from trying to hold on. Grace leaned forward and lay flat against the bears back and hooked her arms around his neck. As soon as she did this the bears speed increased. In this position Grace bounced less and she felt like she had a better grip.

  Am I the first human to have ever done this she wondered, as they came to the edge of the tall grass and burst through it.

  Grace pressed her face into the thick fur at the nape of the bears neck and breathed in his rich earthy aroma. She felt giddy with exhilaration as the bear followed the river back in the direction of town. Grace stroked her fingers through the soft fur and felt the the thick muscles across the bears shoulder and back flex as he galloped across the field.

  Grace sat up again and let out a low shout of pure joy and the bear roared in unison as they ran. The bear began to slow down as they got close to the tree line and began to walk in a slow saunter. A small stream ran close to a curved piece of land that was broken up by hundreds of smaller streams before they rejoined each other on the other side of the wide open plain.

  The bear stopped by the stream and bent his head and began to lap up mouthfuls of water as Grace slipped off his back and stood beside him. She ran her fingers through the thick fur on his flank that was now air dried. She lay her head against his side while he drank feeling his body rise and fall as he breathed.

  I can't believe I am so close to such a beautiful animal she thought as she stroked his side. For the first time a pang of jealousy pulled at her. Grace looked down at her busted knee and the dirt caked patches on her jeans. She turned her hands over and looked at the patchwork of nicks and scratches from her fall.

  "I want to be like you," she whispered.

  The bears ears twitched and he turned from the river and looked at her with its deep soulful eyes. Grace could feel Tom inside the bear as he looked at her. They held their gaze for a few seconds and the bear motioned its head for her to get back on its back.

  "I can walk," Grace said hobbling along. The cut on her knee had stopped bleeding and it was now a dull thudding pain and the feeling of ground glass grinding as she walked. The bear walked a few steps and then turned and looked at her struggling. It approached her and bent its head and sniffed at the wound on her leg. It looked up at her and Grace could tell he was asking her permission.

  "Do it," she said.

  The bear licked her blood soaked knee in two broad strokes and stepped back from her. Warmth spiralled out from the wound and began to spread up her leg and then it felt like someone pierced her skull with a shard of ice and twisted. Grace fell to her knees clutching her head and squeezing her eyes shut to try to block out the pain. A noise like a thousand angry bees filled her ears and then doubled in intensity. She felt the taste of blood in her mouth as she rolled over onto her back. The pain in her skull intensified and a new high pitched noise filled her ears. It took her a second to realise that she was screaming at a throat shredding register. Her bones felt like they were turning to burning hot glass and then they began to turn white hot molten and burn through her body.

  I can't take it anymore she thought as her body was wracked with convulsive spasms of searing pain.

  I can't... and then everything turned black.

  The first thing she noticed was the smell. A pungent ripe stew of rotten fruit, coffee grounds and wet trash. She opened her eyes and she was in a city with red brick buildings on both sides of a one way street. Trash bags were piled on the sidewalk and spilling out of garbage cans beside the steps leading up to the houses. The sun was high and brought in the sky and it was cooking everything down below it. The smell made her stomach lurch and also the out of control feeling of no control as she saw through someone else's eyes.

  This is one of Annes memories grace thought. For the first time she was able to handle the onslaught of sensory information flooding into her through the flashbacks. Before, everything had come at her in a jumbled mess of sights overloaded with sounds intercut with time jumps that caused total disorientation. Each time she was thrown into one of these memories her focus seemed to increase and now she felt like she was riding along inside Annes head as she walked down the trash strewn street.

  They passed an African American man in a denim one piece suit with wide lapels and even wider flared trouser legs and he grinned at them. "Hey mama, why don't you hang back here with me. I've got cold beers up inside," he said flashing her another grin.

  Anne kept on walking without even looking in the direction of the man and he continued to call after her as she passed by. When she got to the end of the street she turned right onto a near identical street flanked by red bricked houses. On this street every second place was boarded up. Smashed glass was everywhere and it twinkled in the sun as she passed. Trash bags lay in the middle of the street, some of them burst open scattering their contents everywhere.

  The houses that weren't boarded up had thick iron bars on the windows and solid looking wooden doors with small wire mesh covered windows. No one was on the street and the only sign of life was a cat pawing at an over turned coffee canister rolling about in the middle of the road.

  Anne took the steps up to a house near the end of the street and pressed the red buzzer beside the door. The intercom crackled to life and a woman's voice said, "Who is it?"

  "Anne," she replied.

  "Be with you in a minute," the voice on the intercom said and the speaker crackled off with a ear screeching burst of static.

  After a minute a woman opened the door and greeted Anne with a hug that felt full of genuine affection. The woman had long dark hair with a white flower blossom pinned above her ear. She had eyes set far apart with heavy lids covered in a dark smudged eye shadow. Her lips where full and covered in a glossy slick of pink lipstick. Grace could smell the chemically heightened aroma of strawberries wafting from the woman's skin.

  "They are all here already," the woman said as she turned and walked upstairs.

  "Marcy what about the twins, are they here?" Anne asked as she followed Marcy up the stairs.

  Marcy looked over her shoulder and her eyes narrowed slightly and said, "They are meant to get here later today." She turned back around and continued to walk up the stairs.

  Grace felt it as soon as Marcy turned around. Annes whole body stiffened and her heartbeat sped up as she followed the woman up the stairs. Something is not right Grace thought as she felt a surge of adrenaline course through her body. She wanted to turn around and run from this place but Anne kept on walking.

  Marcy crossed a small landing and knocked three times on a door. Anne glanced around. The other two doors had thick planks of wood nailed across them in the sign of the cross. On one door the word 'Vampire" was spray painted and on the door beside it was the word "Frankenstein". The door swung open and Marcy entered as a cloud of pungent smoke wafted into the corridor. Anne followed her in. She tried to focus her eyes on the indistinct shapes clouded in a thick layer of smoke. A noise like a large metallic bell rang out close to her ear. Grace moaned and her head shook in pain. The smoke parted and she was on t
he ground staring up into Toms face.

  "You passed out," he said stroking her cheek. His face was streaked with blood and his hair was matted to his head.

  Grace reached up and touched his lips. "Is it really you?" she said, her voice coming out in a croak.

  "It is. I think it's the bile making you see flashbacks again. You started to scream in pain and then you passed out," Tom said.

  She looked at him feeling confused and disorientated. It was if she had fallen asleep on a plane and woke up in different country. Everything around her seemed too bright and a little hyper real. "Are you injured? You're covered in blood," she asked and looked down at him, "and naked." she said as she tried to sit up. Tom put his arms around her and helped her up, leaning her against a rock for support.

  "I had to shift back when you started to convulse. I was afraid you were going to swallow your tongue," Tom said and pointed at her jacket, "can I borrow this until we get back into town?"

  Grace nodded and gave him her jacket which he tied around his waist.

  "Those men who attacked us, who were they?" Grace asked. She was starting to feel close to normal as the pain in her head and joints began to fade away.

  "I don't know who they were, but I know what they were." Tom said.

  Grace looked at him and thought, if he tells me they are some sort of day walking vampires I don't think I would be surprised at all.

  "They are hunters. I've come across their kind a couple of times. They are an ancient order of brothers that we know very little about. They seem to be around as long as shifters have existed. In the past, villages would hire a group of hunters to clear out any groups of shifters that lived close to their lands. The hunters would then come in and track down and kill any shifter that crossed them. The hunters were part of the biggest atrocities in shifter history. The hunters were there during the destruction of Harkington manor. Up to a hundred shifters where killed during that time. There is a song called the red river of Boyne that has been passed down for generations. It's about a party of hunters tracking an innocent family of shifters, a mother, father and three younglings. They tracked the shifters to the point of exhaustion until a final stand was made and the shifter family was wiped out by the banks of the river Boyne. The heads of the family were mounted on stakes by the side of the river as a warning to all other shifters. The song and legend tells it that the river ran blood red for three days after the massacre. Our history is littered with conflicts with them. Something happened a hundred or so years ago and the hunters activity seemed to decrease. When industrialisation came people abandoned the old stories about dark shapes in the forests and people seemed to forget about a need for hunters. They retreated into the dark and during this period so did both of the shifter clans. Since then our paths have crossed very little," Tom said.