It took a few woozy seconds to realize where I was. “Yvette,” I roared weakly, back in my human shape. I tried to sit up.
“Shhh, Ter. You’re scaring my parents.” She wrapped her arms around me and buried her face in my chest. “And me.”
The pain receded a little. The smell of blood, damaged flesh, and wolf became too strong to ignore. The bodies lay next to me, right where they’d fallen. Ugly fuckers.
“Who—?” My gaze traveled around the room. Her parents were still bound. There was no one else there. “Your parents, Yvette. You need to take care of them.”
Shakily she got up. The pain worsened without her soothing presence.
There was some low intense conversation after she removed her parents’ gags. The pain of healing made whatever they said a low priority. I dragged myself to the scraps of my clothes and retrieved my phone.
I’d just connected with the office when our shadow arrived. “Good timing, Glen. Help me up.”
I couldn’t put any weight on my injured leg, but I could stand upright if I held on to the counter. Standing, I felt more normal.
“Thanks,” I told him. Although I wished he’d come in sooner, he’d been following procedure. “Get the cleaning kit out of the car,” I added.
Turning my attention to the phone, I requested a cleanup van. “Someone’s probably called the cops already,” I warned.
I could do with some clothes, too, I was thinking, just as Yvette returned with a bathrobe. Her father’s, no doubt. She’d taken off her gore-splattered clothes and was wearing a soft robe covered with rosebuds. My throat closed up. She didn’t belong in this mess. If I hadn’t failed to protect her the first time… And now this.
Glen returned with one of the big toolboxes.
“Close the curtains as soon as you get the gloves on,” I told him, belting the borrowed bathrobe. It barely covered me enough for human decency.
Leaning on Yvette, I went out to the living room. Her parents, huddled together on the couch, were starting to snap out of the shock. It hurt to see the way they looked at me. And at Yvette.
“Mrs. Conway, Mr. Conway, I’m sorry. So very sorry. Some people are going to come and clean up your kitchen. I know that won’t make up for what you went through.”
“You’re damn right,” Mr. Conway sputtered weakly.
“The police might be here any minute,” I said before he could say any more. “They can’t be involved. For Yvette’s sake.”
They both looked sick when it hit them. If the police found those bodies, it would come out that Yvette shot two of them. Nobody would believe any talk about shifters. Whatever the outcome of Yvette being known as the shooter, self-defense or not, it would be bad for her and our cub.
“Isaac.” Mrs. Conway set a hand on her husband’s sleeve.
He turned his wrathful stare from me. “I don’t like it, Liz.”
“Remember what happened to Uncle Jimmy.”
He sighed. “Yeah.” He reached for the remote on the coffee table. Turning on the TV, he flipped through the channels until he found something loud and violent, and he turned up the volume.
Stony-eyed, he turned back to me. “For Yvette’s sake. Not yours.”
Fair enough. It was more than I expected from a human.
The doorbell rang steadily, as if someone was pressing without letting up.
“I’ll get it,” I said.
My leg was healed enough to support me. I gave Yvette a little push toward her parents.
I opened the door to a pair of cops standing on the front step. The lights of their car parked right behind mine flashed red and blue. A second car with flashing lights pulled up.
“There are reports of shots being fired,” the taller one said.
The other one craned to look past me. The sound of squealing tires came from the living room. Neither of them seemed to notice the heavy blood scent.
“Not here,” I said. “My father-in-law does watch the TV pretty loud, though.”
“Terrence,” Yvette called, “what is it?”
“Nothing important.”
The cops didn’t like that. I didn’t like the way they looked at Yvette when she sauntered out of the living room, either. That robe didn’t hide enough of her.
“Ma’am, we have a report that shots were fired in your house. May we—”
“Who said that?” she asked indignantly. “Who’s spreading rumors?”
“May—”
“Mama,” she bellowed.
The cops tensed, and I tensed with them. Watching them warily, I wondered if I was going to have to take another bullet before the night was over.
Yvette moved aside to let her mother through. Despite being tied up for however long and facing the impossible, Mrs. Conway looked every inch the upright matron, giving us the whiff of respectability we’d lacked before.
“Officers?” she asked politely. Her tone excused them for interrupting her, but please don’t do it again.
“Ma’am, shots have been reported. May we come in?”
“No, you may not,” she said immediately. “We’re getting ready to retire.”
The cop looked like he would argue, but an officer from the second car came up the walkway and pulled him aside.
“We got the order to drop this one,” the officer said, too low for anyone who wasn’t a shifter to overhear.
Turning back to us, the first cop simply said, “Thank you. Have a good evening.” He and his partner got back in their car.
I closed the door and leaned on it, suddenly exhausted. And dying of thirst.
I let Yvette lead me back into the living room and push me onto the couch. Someone finally turned off the TV. Yvette wrapped my hand around a glass of water. I swallowed it all in one gulp. And a second glass. And a banana and a plate of cookies.
The shadow came in to report. “I’ve got them bagged and the kitchen wiped. They’re going to be picked up tomorrow morning.” He glanced at Yvette’s parents. “A truck will come with boxes for your old appliances.”
Mrs. Conway’s mouth tightened. Mr. Conway looked ready to explode. After the adrenaline wore off, they’d probably get the shakes. They should have never had to deal with any of this.
“Good work, Glen,” I told the shadow. “Guard the bags until your relief comes.”
He nodded.
That left me, Yvette, and her parents.
I took an apple from the pile of fruit on the coffee table. When did that get put there? Yvette nodded at me.
I didn’t deserve her. And I couldn’t imagine living without her.
Putting the apple back, I stood. My leg twinged only a little now.
“Mr. and Mrs. Conway, Yvette. Someone’s going to call you about counseling services. It’s your choice to accept them or not, but there’s no charge, and I highly recommend that you attend at least one session.”
Mr. Conway narrowed his eyes. “There are more of your kind, aren’t there?”
“If you don’t mind, Mr. Conway, I’ll return your bathrobe later.”
“You’re not going to just walk away without giving up some answers. We’ve got a right to know what kind of man wants to marry our daughter.”
“What about Yvette’s baby?” Mrs. Conway asked.
Yvette linked her arm with mine. “What about our baby?”
“Is it going to be like him?” Mr. Conway pointed his head at me.
“Our baby is not an it, Daddy.” My bear applauded the steely tone in her voice.
“And I suppose you still want to marry him.”
“Yes, Daddy,” she said firmly.
I disengaged her arm from mine, ignoring my bear’s snort of annoyance. “You don’t have to, Yvette. I’ll take the baby after he’s born, and you can go back to your normal life.”
“Honey, I never thought these words would come out of my mouth,” Mrs. Conway said quietly, “but in this situation that might be the best solution.”
“That’s right,” Mr. Conway said. “You can put this mistake behind you.”
Yvette stared at me, her big brown eyes swallowing me whole. I don’t think she even heard her parents.
“No, Terrence. That’s not going to happen. You can’t push me away anymore. There’s no you and me anymore, there’s only us.”
“I don’t want for you to lose your parents too.” I had to force the words out.
“That’s their choice. Oh Ter, when those wolves went at you—” Her voice broke.
She was in my arms. I kissed the tears from her cheeks and her eyes and the tip of her chin.
“And as awful as it was, I can’t even feel guilty,” she murmured. “I’d do it again, in a heartbeat. Just like you would for me.”
I was too exhausted to argue anymore. She knew I was a shifter, and she didn’t care. I’d given her multiple opportunities to turn against me, and she hadn’t.
And I’d claimed her. My mate.
“Us,” I said, the word sweet on my tongue.
“Yvette, Terrence,” Mrs. Conway broke in tiredly, “we’re going to bed now. Turn off the lights when you’re done in here.”
“We can’t—” Mr. Conway began to protest.
“Isaac, it’s out of our hands. Let’s get some sleep.” She slipped her arm around his waist and sagged against him. “Please.”
He squeezed her shoulders. “Of course, baby.”
They left me alone with Yvette. Both of them had seen me shift into a killer bear that could disembowel a man with one swipe, and they went off to bed, where they’d be completely vulnerable. It wasn’t what I expected. My world tilted, my understanding of humans thrown into disarray.
“I need to pack just a few things,” Yvette said to me. “And then we can go home.”
Home. With my mate. Us.
My bear trumpeted his delight.
And I agreed wholeheartedly.
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I stopped at the market on my way through town. Nowhere, California, population 672, and a bustling metropolis compared to my cabin in the woods.
For a couple of minutes I just sat, enjoying the feel of being in a vehicle that wasn’t moving. But it was still a cramped metal box, even if the scent of pine blew through my open window. So I dragged myself out of the SUV and into Sophie’s Get-It-Here Market and Mail Delivery.
The scents of sawdust, semifresh produce, raw meat, and cleaning supplies hit me. An open package of goldfish crackers was stashed somewhere nearby.
Sophie sat behind the scarred wooden counter, her feet propped up on a barrel while she read some unidentified novel on her tablet. I speculated sometimes, but I didn’t really want to know. I wasn’t eager to share my reading habits with anyone else either.
Putting her tablet down, she stood and stretched with an audible creaking of her joints. “How was the wedding?”
“Perfectly lovely. Georgette made the sweetest bride. Bear is happy as could be.”
As my brother should be, having found his mate. I felt a gnawing hunger for mine, whoever and wherever he was. Not in California, apparently. It seemed like every unmated shifter in the state attended Bear’s wedding, and not one of them made my bear stir. Give it time, Mom always said.
Time time time. Bah.
For an instant I considered being more open to human males. That thought died a fast death. I was too big, too clumsy, too different to appeal to humans. Human men weren’t interested in living in a cabin in the woods with a part-time trail guide. As far as they were concerned, I was invisible.
“Gordon is putting in a new well,” Sophie said.
“What’s wrong with the old one?”
“Got contaminated somehow. He said.”
Yeah, Gordon said a lot of stuff. But he didn’t usually back it up with action.
“Contaminated with what?” I asked.
“He never said.”
“No?”
“I think he doesn’t know what it is.” Sophie dragged the rubber band out of her ponytail, scraped back her carrot-red hair until the salt-and-pepper roots looked like they’d pull right out, and replaced the rubber band. “But I think this time he wasn’t just talking through his hat. Cliff and Jenny are getting their well tested too.”
“Hmmm.” I’d have to talk to them.
“By the way.” Sophie gave me a speculative look. “We’ve got newcomers.”
“Where?” Although the Maldonado lot had been for sale for years, it was hard to believe they’d finally gotten a taker.
“They don’t say.” She lowered her voice even though we were the only ones in the market. The before-closing flurry of shoppers hadn’t started yet. “I think they’re camping out on federal lands.”
“Really?”
“You didn’t hear it from me.” She sliced her hand across her throat.
“Of course not,” I said automatically. “I’d better get my stuff. It’s been a long day.”
I was grabbing milk out of the dairy case when a motorcycle rumbled into the parking lot. The blast of noise rattled the walls. The arrogant fool riding it should keep on going down the road and leave my forest behind.
A couple of minutes later the door opened, the bells strung across the top clanging sharply.
I put my milk, yogurt, and other groceries on the counter without bothering to look at the new customer. The people who rode into town on those loud bikes were tediously similar: shaggy hair that looked unclean, aggressively tattooed to the point of being comical, and overly fleshy. I liked big guys—how could I not? bears were my people, and I packed some weight myself—but the bikers just looked flabby, no real muscle behind the flesh. And I disliked their smell.
“Good evening, Val,” Sophie said, her voice subtly different than when she spoke to me.
I raised my eyebrow at her. She didn’t notice. Her gaze focused on the new customer, she twiddled with her shirt, pulling it down and smoothing out the wrinkles across her chest.
“How you doing,” the new customer responded in a deep voice. The response rumbled in my chest the same way the bike had shaken the market walls.
I glanced over my shoulder, and involuntarily turned to get a better look. Tall, taller than me. Lean but well-muscled. Dark hair tousled from his helmet, but smelling cleanly of him. Silver studs glinted at his ears, silver chains glittered around his neck and wrist. His scent… I breathed in. Not a bear, but not human either. Sexy and sleek, and very male. My bear approved.
Well, I didn’t. A pretty package didn’t negate the metal monster he’d ridden in on. I’d had enough problems with bikers who came in and thought they could do whatever they wanted in the forest.
Not in my forest, they couldn’t.
He was taking stock of me in turn. His gaze ran up and down my body, my skin under my clothes tingling as though he’d run his hands over me. I cursed the unlined bra I’d worn, and just managed not to hunch in an effort to hide my hardening nipples. At least he couldn’t see the tingling between my legs, and the spreading dampness.
But he could smell it. He sucked in a breath, and the pupils of his eyes swelled till the iris was a thin blue rim. His tight T-shirt didn’t hide his nipples either, and his taut leather pants—
Abruptly I turned back to Sophie. “Can you ring me up?” I think my tone was nonchalant.
The stranger moved, retreating down an aisle. I felt an irrational disappointment, even as I tracked his movements, sensing when he stopped to read a label, and knowing when he picked up a gallon of fruit juice.
“Sure can.” Sighing, she scanned my items and put them in my cloth grocery bags.
After I finished swiping my card, I helped her bag them.
“By the way, did I get any mail?”
“Just a Big Girls catalog.”
“I’ll get it next time then.” When there wasn’t an impossibly sexy stranger wandering through the aisles.
Door bells jingling, I exited the market.
The stranger’s motorcycle was parked next to my SUV. Like him, it was sleek, despite being fitted with saddlebags and a trunk. Matte black with brushed steel, it exuded understated power.
I put my bags in the trunk of my boring beige SUV and slammed the hatch shut. The motorcycle fixed in the corner of my eye, I strode to the driver’s door. And paused.
The hand grips, the flashiest thing on the motorcycle, had a flames pattern worked in gloss black against flat black. I wondered if they were comfortable to hold. Without thinking I reached over and grabbed a hand grip.
An alarm immediately started whining.
Holy crap. I hastily slid into my SUV.
The stranger came outside in time to see me leave.
Pretending obliviousness, I sedately drove off.
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