5

I Can’t Bear It

I sat at Molly’s desk, watching Justice clean and bandage Rog’s wound with the first-aid kit I’d insisted Molly buy for the store. Running my hands through my short cap of curly auburn hair. I felt disheveled and filthy. I kept getting a whiff of a fishy smell I knew wasn’t my imagination. I’d kill for a shower.

Though Justice had bandaged my assorted wounds and wrapped my leg, he hadn’t had any of the magical ointment so they still hurt like the dickens.

Justice glanced my way and his brows peaked.

I stared back, knowing my eyes were probably too wide, the green of my irises overtaking the pupils as my eyes adjusted to the harsh change in light. I looked away from him, not wanting him to see how upset I was. Stretching out my legs, I carefully crossed them at the ankles and noted they looked slimmer than before, yet shaped with lean muscle. Becoming a traveler had been good for my physique. At five feet seven, I had long legs and a strong form, but not bulky. The decades of being a cop had kept me in shape until middle age had hit. Then age had touched my fine features with wrinkles, thickening my waist, and thinning the thick cap of auburn hair a bit. I didn’t like the changes, but they weren’t that bad, and I’d earned every single wrinkle I wore on my oval face.

“Where is she?” Rog suddenly demanded, yanking me from my thoughts.

“Huh?” I gave myself an internalized face slap. I sounded like a simpleton. “Molly?”

“Who else,” he growled, tugging on his torn and stained shirt. “Where’d they take her?”

“Tell us what happened,” Justice said, his voice kind. He began tucking items back into the first aid kit, giving Rog a moment to consider his question.

I wasn’t so considerate. I was watching him like a hawk when the look of pure terror filled his eyes. Rog caught me noticing and frowned, skimming his gaze toward the door. “I don’t know who it was,” he said evasively. “I was in the back room, shaking out and racking the newest delivery of clothes.” He plucked at his shirt with fingers that I noted were shaking. “I heard her scream and it threw me for a loop.” His voice caught and he cleared his throat. “I. Hesitated.” The way he said the words was like self-flagellation. Rog shook his head. “If I’d hurried…”

“You can’t beat yourself up…” I started to say.

His head shot up, his expression enraged. “Who should I beat up then, Rae? You? Isn’t this your fault? She never dreamed the weird stuff you’ve gotten yourself into would come back to bite her. Why should she? Who would ever expect…” His lips flattened, his eyes darkening with emotion. “Who would expect that?” he whispered.

“What did you see?” Justice asked.

Rog shook his head, suddenly surging to his feet. His small brown hands fluttered away from him as if he had no control. His gaze darted from side to side. “We have to help her.”

Justice slid me a look. Our gazes met and I nodded just enough to let him know we were on the same page. Rog had clearly seen something from another dimension. Something terrifying. And judging by his appearance, something dangerous.

I nodded toward his shirt. “What tore your shirt?” I’d all but given up on the possibility that he’d answer us. I knew why. If he said the words aloud, it would make the monsters real. And if it became real, Rog would have to admit to himself that Molly was in real danger.

I knew from personal experience that wasn’t a fun place to be.

He shook his head again and I thought he was refusing to answer. But he said, “It picked me up like I weighed nothing. It had terrible claws and smelled…” Frowning as if trying to come up with the right word, he finally said. “Feral.”

“A dog?” Justice asked, testing the waters. The guide was smart. If Rog was still unable to admit what he’d experienced, he’d jump on the suggestion. “A big one, like Elvo?”

Rog hesitated, his chin lifting a tiny bit as if he intended to nod. But he didn’t nod. He shuddered instead. The action so violent he nearly fell over. He had to grab onto the front edge of Molly’s desk to keep himself upright. That was the moment I wondered if he had something else going on physically. Some kind of poison coursing through his veins or something.

“No,” he said with unexpected conviction. “Not a dog. More like a bear.” He nodded once as if that explanation pleased him. Yes, it would be strange for a bear to have entered The Muddle. But not as strange as a creature from a monster dimension.

“A bear?” Justice asked, his tone assessing.

“Yes. A bear.” The tilt of Rog’s chin all but dared us to argue.

We didn’t argue.

Justice inclined his head. “Elvo’s scenting the perimeter,” he told Rog. “If there was a bear out there, he’ll find the trail.”

Rog nodded, crossing his skinny arms over his skinny chest. “When you track it, I’m going with you.”

I was already shaking my head no.

Justice lifted a hand away from his hip, low enough that Rog wouldn’t notice. I bit back the rejection of his idea I was about to voice. “Have you fought a bear before?” Justice asked.

Rog stared at him for a beat, clearly perplexed by the question. Finally, he shook his head. “No. But…”

“I’ve hunted bear,” Justice told him. “I know their habits, strengths, weaknesses. If you come along, I’ll have to worry about you instead of focusing on Molly. That isn’t what you want, is it?”

His shoulders fell. “No.”

Justice clapped a hand on Rog’s bony shoulder. The smaller man tottered as if he might fall. The fingers on his shoulder curved to hold him upright. “I’ll bring Molly back,” Justice said.

Tears burned my eyes as I realized he shouldn’t make that promise. Justice sounded sure. But nothing was definite in the world of monsters. Nothing was predictable. Still, I couldn’t reprimand him. I needed that reassurance every bit as much as Rog did.

Justice looked at me. “You get him home. Elvo and I will handle this.”

I surged upright. “No. I’m going with you.”

“She’s right,” Rog said, earning brownie points from me. “She can help find Mols. Don’t leave her here with me. Don’t make me the cause of Molly maybe being lost because you didn’t have the help you needed.”

His plea was desperate, but reasonable enough to make Justice hesitate. He glanced my way and I nodded. “I’m coming.”

“It’s not safe for Rog to be out there alone.”

“That’s okay,” Molly’s stubborn assistant said. “Because I won’t be alone. I’m coming with you.”

No amount of arguing changed Rog’s mind. Finally, realizing we were losing precious time, I gave in, forcing Justice to follow suit. “You stay close and do exactly what we say when we say it, understood?” I told Rog.

The man’s lips flattened and fire lit his gaze, but he nodded. “Understood.”

He was totally going to do whatever he wanted.

Sighing, I moved to the locked metal cabinet at the back of the room. I picked up the candy bowl on the top and reached inside, finding the fake wood bottom and prying it up with my fingernail.

“This is no time for a snack,” Rog said, his tone snotty and impatient. In other words, normal.

Ignoring him, I extracted the key hidden beneath the wood and unlocked the cabinet, pocketing the key. Since Rob knew about my hiding spot, I’d have to find a different one after we got Molly back.

The thought comforted me. We would get her back.

Opening the top drawer, I tugged a pile of clean clothing aside and grabbed my gun and two knives. I handed Justice the knives and grabbed an extra magazine for the Glock.

When I turned around, Rog was staring at me gape-mouthed. He looked kind of gray.

“You had weapons!”

I thought he was horrified by their very existence in his sphere, but his next words changed my understanding.

“Why didn’t you tell me those were there. I could have saved Molly.”

Aside from the idea of Rog with a gun in his hand, which was enough to liquify my bowels, I was shocked he’d even consider using the gun. He was a self-declared peacenik and liked to call me a barbarian for believing in the equalizing quality of a good gun or blade. “I…ah…”

Justice nodded toward the door, saving me from having to respond. “I’ll go first, you stay close to my heels,” he told Rog. “Rae will take up the rear. Under no circumstances will you abandon that position.”

Rog nodded without the attitude he’d given me.

Annoying.

We exited the store and walked out into a warm, dark night. I looked up at the security lights and gasped. Even in the darkness, I could see the bent and twisted lamps atop the poles. “Justice,” I said softly.

His gaze followed mine and he stilled. No normal bear had done that. He didn’t respond, but he glanced at Rog. “Stay close,” he whispered.

Rog seemed to pick up on our worry. He was strangely quiet, a state I didn’t think I’d ever seen him in, and did as he was told without argument.

The only voice I heard was Justice’s as he swore at Rog to stop stepping on his heels.

The night air felt heavy and moist, as if rain were trapped there, unable to fall. The sky was a mix of lead and charcoal, so dark I could barely see Justice fifteen feet away.

In front of me, Rog suddenly dodged sideways and my hand tightened on my gun, still jammed in the small of my back. Without warning, a tall form appeared in front of me and I sucked in a surprised gasp, the gun found my hand before I identified my foe. Then I laughed, realizing I’d just drawn on a sapling.

“What did that tree ever do to you?” a snide voice said from beside me.

Only decades of experience on the streets as a cop kept me from plugging Rog between his bulgy eyes.

My pulse pounding in my ears and my skin tingling with awareness, I eased a breath out between my lips and forced myself to relax. “You’re going to get shot. You’re supposed to stay close to Justice. Where is he?”

The whites of Rog’s eyes were visible through the dark. They looked enormous. “I lost him. I figured he was with you.”