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Bad Blood Bear (Bad Blood Shifters Book 1)




  Bad Blood Bear

  (Bad Blood Shifters Book 1)

  by

  Anastasia Wilde

  Bad Blood Bear

  Copyright © 2017 by Anastasia Wilde

  Copyright © 2017 by Anastasia Wilde

  First Electronic Publication: May 2017

  All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this book may be used, reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, scanning, uploading, or distributing via the internet, print, or any other means, without written permission from the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or have been used fictitiously, and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental. The author does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for third-party websites or their content.

  Published in the United States of America.

  Cover by Jeanne Gransee Barker

  Come to Silverlake Mountain and fall in love…

  Smokin’ hot shifter men with hearts of gold; the strong, passionate women who love them; secrets, lies and danger; naughty, steamy love scenes—and happily ever afters.

  Silverlake Shifters Series:

  Fugitive Mate

  White Wolf Mate

  Tiger Mate

  Silverlake Enforcers Series:

  Silverlake Shifters – The Enforcers: KANE

  Silverlake Shifters – The Enforcers: ISRAEL

  Silverlake Shifters – The Enforcers: NOAH

  Bad Blood Shifters Series:

  Bad Blood Bear

  Chapter 1

  The blood hunger was coming over her again.

  Lissa Ramsey stood on the sidewalk outside the diner, leaning against the plate glass window and trying not to inhale the smell of cooking meat.

  Blood. Kill. Devour.

  This wasn’t ordinary hunger, although her stomach was growling from lack of food. This was the demon—the darkness that had been growing inside her ever since the night she ran away from the compound in Arkansas.

  Since she ran away from Brother Damien.

  Just thinking his name made her feel sick and dizzy. Memory fragments tormented her: candles and chanting, blood and smoke. A forest. Running, falling, scrambling to her feet and running again. Sharp branches slapping her face and arms; the snarl of wild animals. Pain and fear and a terrifying red haze of rage.

  Nausea hit her, and Lissa began to shake.

  Blood. Kill. Devour.

  The demon was clawing at her insides. It made her want to lash out, hurt people, rend flesh and taste blood. It made her do things she didn’t even remember.

  It was turning her into a monster.

  So she stayed on the road, moving from town to town, trying to outrun the things she’d done. But she couldn’t outrun the demon.

  It wanted living flesh, she knew it did. But when she was desperate, when she and the demon were both desperate, it would accept dead meat, if it was rare and bloody enough.

  The diner door opened and a young couple came out, followed by a puff of burger-scented air. Lissa’s mouth watered, and the demon growled inside her.

  Blood. Hunt. Kill. Devour.

  Lissa steadied herself and took a deep breath. It’s not real, she told herself. Just some kind of traumatic delusion. Or just, you know, a complete mental breakdown. But it certainly wasn’t supernatural.

  Whatever it was, the only way to keep it at bay was to feed it.

  Hands shaking, Lissa dug out the small zippered purse she kept her money in and counted the bills. She probably had enough for a small burger, if she didn’t get any fries or soda. It was stupid to spend it all on one meal, though. She could get two or three days’ worth of canned tuna and crackers for the same money.

  But the demon didn’t care about the future. It had already taken control of her legs, and she was walking helplessly to the door of the diner. As soon as she opened the glass door and stepped inside, the smell of cooking meat nearly brought her to her knees.

  The red haze spread across her vision, and her fingers curled into claw-like curves. Her legs buckled, and she would have gone down except for the strong hands that caught her from behind just as she started to fall, setting her carefully on her feet.

  “Are you okay?”

  The voice was a low rumble, so deep she felt the vibration in her chest. Lissa whirled around, almost stumbling again. The hands belonged to a huge mountain of a man, the size of a pro wrestler. His face was all hard chiseled planes, with sexy scruff around a grim mouth that had lines saying it used to smile a lot, but hadn’t lately. His dark blond hair was mussed, like he’d run his hands through it in frustration, and his eyes were a surprisingly soft moss green.

  The demon froze inside her, looking through her eyes at the man.

  Want!

  Without thinking, Lissa reached up with both hands and pulled his head down to hers, kissing him on the mouth. His lips were warm, and after a surprised second they softened under hers. Every inch of his body was hard muscle, and he smelled amazing, like a sunlit forest glade in the spring.

  Want. Bite. Mine.

  The demon gave a little growl, and nipped the man’s lower lip. He jerked back and they stared at each other.

  Holy fuck, what had she just done?

  The man wiped the back of his hand across his lip and gazed at it, as if looking for blood. Lissa backed away.

  At that moment, the waitress appeared. “Two?” she asked, raising the menus she was holding.

  Lissa shook her head, panicked. “We’re not together,” she said. Go away, go away, go away. Pretend this never happened.

  The waitress cut her eyes from Lissa to the man. “Tank?” she said. “She with you?”

  He shook his head mutely, still looking stunned.

  The waitress pursed her lips. “Oookay,” she said. She gestured to Lissa. “Come this way.” She handed the man one of the menus and said, “You can have the corner table if you want. I’ll be right over.”

  “Thanks,” the man rumbled, and headed off to his table, throwing Lissa one last perplexed glance.

  Lissa followed the waitress to a booth and slid onto the vinyl seat. She was starting to feel nauseated again, but she wasn’t sure whether it was from the hunger, or what the demon made her do. It had sure as hell never made her grab a strange man in a public place before, and attack him with her lips. Heat shot through her.

  Chill out, she told herself. That’s not the worst thing you’ve done. Maybe just the most humiliating.

  She needed food. Cooked meat wasn’t what the demon wanted, but it was the only thing that quieted the cravings. If she didn’t feed it, God only knew what it would make her do next.

  She looked at the menu. A small burger was just within her budget, if she didn’t get any extras and didn’t leave a tip.

  The waitress stopped back after a minute and set down a glass of water with a straw. “I know it’s not my business, hon, but is everything okay with you and Tank?”

  Tank. What kind of a name was that?

  She glanced over at the big man, who was gazing at her, a tiny frown between his eyes. Just forget about me, she thought. Leave me alone.

  “Everything’s fine,” she said.

  The waitress shrugged. “If you say so. You ready to order?”

  Lissa opened her mouth to ask for the small burger, and then the scent of cooking meat wafted over her again. Blood. Meat. Kill. Devour.

&nb
sp; The demon took over her mouth, and she said through the red haze, “Two double burgers. No, three. Rare. Bloody.”

  The waitress said, “Fries okay with that? Want a Co-cola, or sweet tea?”

  “I don’t fucking care,” she ground out. “Just bring me the burgers.” The demon was screaming inside her, and she had to wrap her hands around her waist and bite her lip until the blood came, just so she wouldn’t run over to the kitchen and start stuffing burgers into her mouth. Or steaks. She could smell steaks, and she wanted them. Want, want, want.

  An eternity went by. Then finally there was meat and warm bloody juice running down her throat, and everything was red and hazy and she wanted more and more and more until it was all gone, all gone except the hunger that never quite left her.

  Lissa sat back, staring at her plate. She didn’t remember getting her food. She’d sat down at the table and looked at the menu, and then—nothing.

  Now her plate held nothing but a wreck of fries and shredded buns, with some lettuce and tomato scattered through it. Her hands were greasy and bloody, as if she’d stuffed her naked burger into her mouth with both hands like a crazy person. There was still juice running down her chin.

  Lissa tried surreptitiously to clean herself up, pulling napkin after napkin from the metal dispenser on the table. The pro wrestler wannabe—Tank—was staring at her again, that little frown still between his eyebrows.

  Go back to your lunch, dude. Nothin’ to see here.

  As if he could hear her, he returned to his own burger, but he still looked concerned.

  That’s all she needed—a concerned citizen.

  One that she’d—shit, she’d bitten him. How would she ever explain that?

  She could deal with guys on the make. In her years on the street, before she’d joined the People of Ursus, she’d developed a well-honed sense about which guys were your normal everyday creeps and which were run-away-quick bad news. And which were safe to hook up with, the ones who would make an okay boyfriend, protecting her until they got a better offer or got too deep into drugs or major crime.

  Then it was time to move on.

  But this guy was not one she’d ever consider hooking up with. She could tell from his soft eyes that he was too nice—the kind of nice that let people get close and then got stomped on. The kind of nice that wanted to fix everything about you, because they thought if they smothered you with kindness you’d shape up and become a good girl. Someone who wanted babies and minivans and white picket fences and wore a bra every day.

  Someone without the kind of baggage people like her carried around. Good luck with that.

  At least the demon had receded for a while, and she felt almost normal. The waitress stopped by, her white Keds swishing on the ancient pink linoleum floor.

  She glanced at Lissa’s plate. “You must have been hungry. Can I get you anything else, hon?”

  Lissa shook her head. The waitress scribbled on her pad, then tore the check off and laid it face-down on the table.

  “Um, can you tell me where the restroom is?” Lissa said. Her fingers were still sticky, and there were tiny scraps of napkin clinging to them where she’d tried to scrub them off.

  “Down that hall.” The waitress pointed.

  “Okay, thanks.” Lissa picked up the check and felt the blood drain from her face. $23.50? That was impossible. It had to be a mistake.

  She looked at the handwritten scrawl. Three double burgers, rare. This had to be someone else’s check. She didn’t remember what she’d said, but she wouldn’t have ordered all that. She only had five dollars and change in her purse. She was about to call the waitress over and explain the mistake, when she looked down at her plate again. It was a mess, but there were definitely the remains of three buns scattered on it.

  Shit on a shingle.

  She dropped the check back on the table and headed for the restroom, trying not to look like she was hurrying. Inside, she washed her hands and face, her breathing getting fast like she was going to hyperventilate.

  Calm down, she told herself. She had two choices here: dine and dash, or ‘fess up and throw herself on the mercy of the manager. In a little local place like this, sometimes they’d let you work off the cost of your meal, if you had no cash. Sometimes they even felt sorry enough for you that they’d just give you the meal for free.

  But she couldn’t take the chance on trying to work it off. Not that she wouldn’t want the work—hell, she’d love it if they had a real job for her. But the first time she’d tried working after leaving Arkansas—after Brother Damien—well, it hadn’t ended well.

  As in, she’d attacked the fry cook and left town just ahead of the police. At least, that’s what she could piece together from her blurred memory.

  If the management felt like making a fuss about the money, they might call the cops on her. Especially since she’d already bitten one of their other customers.

  It was just a tiny little bite. No blood, even. Like that would make a difference.

  She couldn’t risk it. It would have to be dine and dash.

  Lissa bit her lip. She hadn’t minded doing that when she was younger—it had always seemed like an adventure. Now she felt bad about it, but she’d still do it. You did what you had to. The problem was, it worked better in places like highway truck stops, where different people passed through all the time.

  Once she’d done it, she’d have to avoid this place like the plague if she wanted to stay in town. And she’d found a nice squat here—a great squat, as a matter of fact. She’d counted on staying for a while, while she figured out what to do about her demon—or rather, her condition. Whatever it was.

  She peeked out of the restroom. There was a door at the other end of the hallway leading to the outside. Really, it was like they were just asking for people to dine and dash.

  She eased down to the nearer end of the hallway, by the dining room, stopping and looking into her purse as if counting her money. Really she was scanning the restaurant out of the corner of her eye to see if the waitress was looking for her.

  Nope. Everybody was busy. Except the Incredible Hulk man, who was just getting up from his table.

  Good. He was leaving. She knew she should go too, get out while she could, but something about him kept her watching. As big as he was, there didn’t seem to be an ounce of fat on him. His forest-green thermal shirt clung to his chest, showing off his monster pecs and a set of washboard abs, and his jeans hung low on his hips.

  Want.

  Oh, fuck. The demon again. Lissa tried to turn and leave, but the demon wanted to stay. Wanted him.

  Wait. He was passing the front door. He wasn’t leaving. What the hell was he doing?

  He stopped at her booth, picked up her check and looked at it. He glanced over his shoulder towards the restroom hallway, and Lissa ducked back out of sight. She waited a few seconds, then peeked out again.

  The man had his wallet open. As Lissa watched, dumfounded, he pulled out a few bills and laid them on her table with the check.

  Then he walked out the door without a backward glance.

  Stuffing her money purse in her pocket, Lissa turned and fled.

  Chapter 2

  Outside the diner, Tank sat in his truck, his hand on the keys dangling from the ignition.

  He was supposed to be driving away. Any second now, he was going to turn the key, start his truck, and get rolling.

  But all he could see were wide blue eyes fringed with long black lashes, and hair that would have been curly if she had the chance to wash it on the regular.

  All he could feel was that sweet, wild kiss, with the sexy bite on the end of it. What the fuck was that about?

  The weird thing was, he remembered her. He’d seen her in the convenience store out by the highway, a week ago. He’d noticed her because of those eyes, beautiful but ringed with dark circles like she hadn’t slept in a week. And her scent—she’d smelled wrong. Off, somehow. He’d watched her as she moved nonchalantly t
hrough the store, leaning casually against various displays.

  He’d been pretty sure she was stealing, though she was good enough at it that he didn’t actually see her put anything in her pockets. Anyway, it wasn’t like he was going to rat her out. It wasn’t his business what she did, and there was a time when he’d been down and out himself. When nothing mattered but survival, and the regular rules didn’t apply. You did what you had to.

  That was why he’d paid for her lunch. He’d seen the panic in her eyes when she got the bill.

  Tank suddenly realized he was standing in the street next to his truck.

  The fuck was going on? The grizzly bear inside him was humming, and he was about to shut his truck door and walk back in the diner.

  Don’t get involved, he told himself. She’s clearly crazy. Kissing some stranger, and eating like a starving animal.

  She needs help, his bear said.

  Screw that, Tank replied. I bought her lunch. That’s enough. You know what happened the last time we tried to save a woman we thought needed our help.

  Capture. Torture. And only sheer dumb luck had saved him, even if it wasn’t soon enough. He’d been broken, his bear fucked up beyond repair, but at least they were free.

  There was no way he was jeopardizing that for anyone. Especially a little human thief who was likely to draw attention from the cops. That was the last thing their crew needed. They’d all been wrecked by humans who knew too much about shifters, whose only thought was to use and exploit them. Flying under the radar was the only way they would survive.

  He got back in his truck, trying not to think about how desperate and hungry the woman looked, and how warm and soft her lips were when she kissed him.

  How she needed someone to take care of her. Give her a safe place to sleep and make sure she was fed. Hold her when she felt sad or scared. Make love to her and make her feel cherished.