“I know you’re a liar,” King said, squaring up as Rogue climbed to his feet. “And a traitor to the clan. You gave us up, old man.”
Draven shook his head. Despite his obvious age, his frame was still heavily muscled, though every time he turned, or shifted his weight, he seemed to favor his right leg slightly. Rogue used the back of his arm to wipe away a trickle of blood from his broken lip. “You never understood. Neither did your parents. He,” the old man pointed with a nod of his head toward Rogue, “he’s the only one who ever did.”
“Me?” Rogue spat blood on the floor. “Understand you? I hate you as much as my brother for what you’ve done. You made them come, you put us in danger in the first place.”
King took a wild swing, which the older bear easily turned aside. “You never fight well when you’re angry, you need to focus.”
That just made the big alpha more angry. He threw another punch, missed again, and stumbled that time. Draven’s smug arrogance was beginning to show a crack or two. “We don’t have time for this, King, and I don’t have time to explain everything. But if you don’t listen to me, the entire clan is going to be in a lab by tomorrow.”
King flexed a fist, his chest rising and falling in slow, heavy breaths. Rogue was hunched over, waiting to strike.
Jill put a hand on Rogue’s back, instantly calming him. “Wait a second,” she said. “This is starting to make sense.”
The radio on Draven’s belt fuzzed up. Someone on the other end demanded a report.
“All clear,” Draven said. “No sign of them yet, but we have time still.” He kept his eyes trained on King the whole time he spoke.
“Report as soon as you find them. GlasCorp management wants those bears in cages by sunrise. And Draven?”
“Sir?” the old bear asked.
“Don’t try anything stupid. We’re watching.”
“Sir. I read loud and clear. Draven out.”
“I’m not out to get you,” Draven said, to the two alphas. “Not out to get you or your cubs, or anything else. If I wanted that, I coulda had you years ago.”
“But you vanished right before the—”
King’s voice was cut off by a helicopter overhead. Draven shook his head. “My greatest regret,” he said, “is that I didn’t do sooner what I’m doing now. You’ll understand, but not right now. I can’t stay here forever, you heard the asshole on the radio.”
“If that’s true, then how the hell did they find us in the first place? Some great hero work, there.” Rogue’s voice was dripping with sarcastic venom. “Why the hell should we believe you? You vanish when we’re kids, then show up all these years later pretending like you’re some kind of magical savior?”
Draven laughed again, a dry, bitter sound that clicked in his throat. “You don’t have to,” he said. The old man lowered a hand, and a sound of metal clicking against metal rang off the cave walls. “You don’t have to believe me, neither of you do. But I figured you wouldn’t. I’m not exactly known for flying by the fur on my ass.”
He laughed at his own joke, and then showed what he was clicking. A silver rod, about four inches long, rested in the old man’s hand. “You’re coming with me, or I’m shooting about six thousand silver nails through every single one of you,” Draven said. His laughing at the joke became a grim smile.
“GlasCorp isn’t taking a single one of you. They can’t – they won’t – find the truth about us. You’re either going to let me help you escape and get on with a new life somewhere else, or you’re going to get perforated.”
“Uh,” Jill stepped up between Rogue, King, and Draven. “I have a voice, right? My opinion counts? I think it’s probably a real good idea to take him up on this. I mean, we were leaving anyway, right? Wouldn’t hurt to have some protection.”
“Right,” Rogue said, his eyes narrowing to slits. “Unless of course he’s just going to lead us out of here like a line of ducklings, and then turn us all over for a reward.”
“I guess there’s that,” Jill said. “Then again,” she trailed off, her eyes focused on the thing in Draven’s hand. “I’m not sure there’s much of a choice either way.”
The old man smiled, and then in his gravelly voice, he said: “I like this one. I’m glad you finally found her. I was wondering when you’d get around to it.”
Jill shot a glance at Rogue first, then King, but neither looked away from the old bear with the detonator. If anything strange was said, they didn’t react. Or maybe they were just too focused on trying to decide whether or not there was a real threat, whether or not that detonator would actually do anything if he decided to push the button.
“Two weeks,” Draven said. “You’re wondering about the bombs? All the time since you two have been distracted with honey bear here? I had all the time in the world to strap this place full of bombs. She didn’t have anything to do with it, this was all me. You two keep disappearing. And your cubs aren’t anywhere near as careful as older bears. It isn’t their fault though,” he said when he saw one of them look back. “The very thing that we can all use to keep out of human vision?” He winked, his single eye glinting in the firelight. “GlasCorp took it and made it more powerful.”
“You,” Rogue snarled, tensing again. “You bastard!” he dove again, but apparently took Draven by surprise with his sudden outburst of rage. Hair and claws and fangs and sprouting fur flew. Rogue was bloody and beaten, but not afraid. Definitely, definitely not afraid.
He swiped at Draven, but the old man got out of the way just in time to catch the claw on his shoulder instead of straight into his jugular where it had been originally aimed.
“What’s the point?” the old man grunted, taking an elbow to the stomach, and then managed to wrap a thick, changing arm around Rogue’s neck. As he bore down, squeezing as hard as he could, the alpha’s face started turning all kinds of interesting shades of purple, blue and green as he struggled to free himself. “Why... are you fighting? What do you hope to gain?”
In something that resembled a professional wrestling match, Rogue slid to the ground then kicked back to his feet, flipping his momentum around and slamming the old man backwards into the cave wall. Dust fell from above, and thirty pairs of wide-open eyes watched the brawl. The younger bear got a hand in between their bodies and got a handful of Draven’s face, yanking hard on the side of the old man’s cheek.
Rogue threw one punch, then a second, but a moment later, the wily, older bear fell to a knee, flipped himself onto his back and used the momentum to carry himself back over on top of Rogue. Draven whipped his fist across the big bear’s mouth once, and then with a smooth, almost unseen motion, flicked a metal baton out of his boot and pressed it across Rogue’s Adam’s apple.
“Can you stop now?” Draven hissed, his voice tight in his throat. “Why the fuck would I go to all this trouble to get money by turning you in? I’m almost eighty years old, I’ve invested well, I don’t need a bunch of cash for selling out my family. I got into this because it’s the only way I saw to save all of you. But I will absolutely blow you all into goddamn pieces if it means that our secret stays safe from prying, scientist eyes.”
Rogue struggled against the old man, and just watching her mate try to fight off someone that he simply couldn’t put a lump in Jill’s throat. This man – this bear – who when they first met, she thought was just about the strongest thing on the planet? He looked helpless underneath this guy who was probably three times his age.
The big bear pushed back, but Draven just popped the back of his head backward against the cave floor with a sickening thud. “This goes a lot deeper than you think,” the old man said. “A lot deeper than you can even imagine.”
“Can’t... breathe,” Rogue sputtered.
“I know, are you done fighting? Nod yes and I’ll let you up. If my eighty year old bones can do this, don’t you think maybe there’s a reason?”
Rogue nodded and the old man hopped to his feet with agility that defied all reason. An experiment? On him? Jill wondered. That’d explain the strength and the power, and being able to hide, but... holy shit that’s too crazy even for me.
He stuck out a hand, pulling Rogue to his feet. “Nephew,” he said, “if I wanted to kill you just then, I could have snapped your neck like a twig.”
Nephew? Jesus. Jill shook her head, reaching instinctively for King, who she found had relaxed some when her fingers wrapped around his lower forearm and it wasn’t bulged out and tight with strain. She worked her fingers in between his, and as soon as their palms touched, King’s shoulders sagged, slightly relaxed.
Rogue brushed himself off, and she reached for him too, taking his hand and having the same effect.
The world felt like it was moving through a river of syrup. Slowly, achingly slowly, everyone seemed to be realizing at once that no matter what fighting they did, no matter what wishing or hoping happened, there was one way out.