Laid Bear 2: The Kodiak Clan by Marina Maddix Read Free Book Online Page A

thought, shoving at the rough hewn entry doors.  
    The building was one of the oldest in town, and many of its fixtures were original, including the doors. They were cut from a single cross section of an enormous Sitka spruce. The rings showing the growth of the tree matched up on each door, creating the illusion that the doors themselves were circular. Shiny dents worn into the wood offered testimony as to just how many thousands of hands had pushed on them over the years.
    Jogging through the damp streets of downtown Kodiak, Max watched as fishermen trudged toward the harbor with buckets of gear, wearing bright orange rubber pants and dark green slickers. Little kids splashed in puddles, tromping around in Sitka Sneakers, the brown rubber boots everyone up here wore. Even ladies hustling between stores wore them.
    Architectural Digest wouldn’t be sending a photographer any time soon to document the plain boxiness of most of the town’s buildings. During his research for this trip, Max discovered that an enormous tsunami hit the town in 1964, destroying much of the waterfront and killing 15 (only one of which was a werebear, according to the Council’s records). Still reeling from the devastation, the practical townspeople gave little to no thought to aesthetics, only to how quickly and safely the town could be rebuilt. He admired their resilience.
    The overwhelming majority of the town’s 6,000 residents were human, but the local werebear clan held enough property and government positions to ensure its safety. According to the International Council, most of the clan lived in small, concentrated neighborhoods on the outskirts of town, though a handful of members had gained prominence in the larger community. They’d even had a werebear mayor for awhile in the ‘90s, not that most of the human residents had a clue.
    It didn’t take long for Max to reach the edge of town, where he veered off the main highway — if you could call the pot-holed riddled two-lane road a highway — onto a smaller, less-traveled road. He could tell it didn’t get much traffic from the fine layer of moss that grew in the tire ruts.
    His breath came out in white plumes, his feet crunched on the gravel and odd twig that littered the road. The sun would barely dip below the horizon around midnight during this time of year, but it was still a touch chilly. Summer was a beautiful time up here, but it never failed to surprise him how rainy it was. Until it snowed.
    Rounding a bend, Max almost ran right into a massive grizzly standing in the middle of the road. He came to a quick stop about 20 feet away but only felt curiosity toward the animal. He knew instantly that this was no werebear, just as he knew that, as long as he didn’t overtly threaten the bear, it wouldn’t take an interest in him.  
    Contrary to popular belief, bears — regular and were — have eyesight that’s comparable to humans. But their sense of smell is off the charts. So when the grizzly lifted its snout and chuffed at him, Max knew it was just trying to figure him out. It took all of five seconds for the beast to recognize him as another bear — granted, a funny-looking one — and lumber his way to the other side of the road.  
    “Why did the bear cross the road?” Max asked the misty air as the bear’s enormous hind end disappeared in the dense undergrowth. “To shit in the woods. Yuk yuk yuk.”
    The animal’s strong odor filled his nose as he turned to head back to the hotel. He wanted to get back and, he wasn’t ashamed to admit, try calling Bethany again.
    Standing directly in his path was another big bear, but this one was of the were variety. His inner bear hackled and itched to be released, but Max restrained it.  
    Down boy , he scolded. We’re here to help their clan, remember? Grudgingly, his bear retreated but was on high alert, just in case this encounter went sideways. Something was off and they both sensed it.
    Max nodded at the bear,