Lure of the Bear (Aloha Shifters: Jewels of the Heart Book 3)

by Anna Lowe

Dawn had heard them out. What choice did she have? And in the end, she’d gone against every vow she’d taken in law enforcement and decided not to call in the crime.

  Why? Because she’d known Hunter as a kid. Because he and his friends exuded a sense of gruff honesty that spoke to something in her soul. Because how the hell would she ever explain what she’d seen? Hawaii had its share of shapeshifting tales — tales of men who could turn into sharks or women who turned into dragons and guarded clear mountain streams. But those were just stories, right?

  Sure. Stories. Right.

  Still, her heart had pleaded Hunter’s case, and the discreet investigation she’d carried out afterward indicated that the dead men all shared ruthlessly criminal pasts. In the end, she couldn’t help but think that justice had been served, if by unconventional means. So she’d laid the covered-up crime to rest and come to peace with her role in it. Well, mostly. But she couldn’t get over the shifter part. She couldn’t stop replaying the moment the bear transformed into Hunter — twisting, groaning, contorting…

  But there they stood in the bright light of day, two tongue-tied humans filled with so much longing and pain.

  Something stirred in the Ferrari, and she glanced in. It was just a sheet of paper, one of many that littered the back. Boone’s speeding tickets, no doubt. She fought the urge to reach in and tidy them up. Instead, she turned back to Hunter — Hunter, the bear — and backed away.

  His face fell.

  “Hunter,” she said, forcing herself to step closer again.

  His eyes hit the ground, and his hands burrowed deeper into his pockets.

  “Please, Hunter. Look at me,” she whispered.

  Slowly, he tipped his chin to meet her gaze. A world of pain and regret swirled in his chocolate brown eyes.

  “I’d never hurt you, Dawn. If nothing else, please believe that.”

  Men made lots of promises. But Hunter, she believed.

  “I know,” she whispered. “It’s just…just…” Now she was the one struggling for words. The zaps of electricity she’d always felt around Hunter were stronger than ever. A magnetic pull, an urge to sidle closer and let their bodies brush. How could she explain how strongly she was drawn to him — and how afraid she was of losing control?

  “You’ve saved me two times now,” she murmured. The first time was back in high school when… She halted the thought quickly. “And I appreciate it. More than I can say. But I’m still trying to swallow the bear part.”

  There, she’d said it. But Hunter looked glummer than ever, and it occurred to her what it must be like for him. As a person of mixed heritage, she’d endured a few racial slurs as a kid, though she’d come to embrace who she was.

  Had Hunter? He couldn’t help who he was, right?

  But still — a bear?

  She tried softening the unintended insult. “I mean, I should have guessed.”

  Hunter’s thick eyebrows jumped up, and she couldn’t hold back a tiny smile. She waved at him. “The size fits.”

  His face fell again, and she tapped him on the arm. “Hey. It’s true. Bears are kind of quiet, too. Right?”

  He nodded but didn’t brighten one bit. And really, what was she trying to say? That she didn’t mind him turning into a bear? He’d scared the hell out of her. Worse, he’d confirmed her theory that most men had a hidden, caveman side capable of terrible violence and awful deeds. Men waged wars and committed heinous crimes. Men raped and killed. Some even beat the people they professed to love. She’d gone into law to fight that kind of crime, then decided the police force was a better way to wage her own personal crusade.

  Of course, there were decent men, too. But if Hunter could turn into a coldhearted killer, anyone could.

  She stepped back again. Whatever she felt for Hunter, she couldn’t give in to the pull. The heart had a way of tricking the mind, and she had to be vigilant. She had to remember who she was, too — an officer of the law. She’d already covered up a crime for Hunter’s sake. If there was further trouble, she might have to report the man she loved, despite the consequences it could bring for him and his kind.

  No, it was definitely better to stay single, clear-headed, and away from this man.

  “I guess what I’m saying is, I just need some space. Okay?”

  Hunter opened his mouth to say something, but the radio in her squad car squawked. “Unit 239, Unit 239. Come in, over.”

  She and Hunter stood staring at each other for another long minute before she whispered, “I have to go.”

  She didn’t move, though, and the radio came on again. “Unit 239. Come in, over.”

  If it wasn’t for Boone sauntering back down the trail, as cheerful as can be — and not limping in the slightest — she might have stayed rooted in place all day. There was so much more she needed to say. So much she needed Hunter to explain. But she couldn’t — wouldn’t — allow herself to go down that road.

  She grabbed the handset. “Unit 239, over.”

  Hunter gave one last sad shake of the head and slid back into the Ferrari. When Boone revved the engine and peeled onto the highway with a squeal of the tires, Dawn kept her eye on the vehicle. Well, she kept an eye on Hunter. As he rushed out of sight — with Boone en route to breaking the speed limit yet again — something deep inside her ached, the way it always did when she and Hunter parted ways.

  “The sergeant wants you back at headquarters for a special assignment, over.”

  Only part of Dawn’s mind wondered what she was being reassigned to. The rest was still considering Hunter. What was it about him that pulled on her so? Did bear shifters have extra strong hormones or something?

  “Unit 239, do you copy?” the dispatcher repeated a second later.

  “Copy,” Dawn sighed, watching Hunter disappear around the turn.

  Chapter Four

  Hunter gripped the door handle as Boone raced away.

  “So, how did it go?” the wolf shifter asked.

  Hunter just about showed his fangs. What did Boone expect him to say? I think it will work out? It would never work out between him and Dawn. And if he was honest with himself, things were better that way. The world of shifters was a dangerous one, and he’d already involved Dawn more than he had ever intended to.

  If you were honest with yourself, you’d admit that we can’t live without her, his bear growled.

  Oh, he’d be happy to admit as much. But he had to think about Dawn, not himself.

  Thankfully, Boone was quiet for the short drive back to Koa Point, where Hunter couldn’t wait to lose himself in work. He maintained the estate’s fleet of cars to perfection, but there was always something to check, or he could go back to restoring the 1971 Porsche 911 waiting in the back bay. Work was about the only thing that kept him sane.

  But Silas, damn him, had other ideas. The second Hunter and Boone stepped out of the car, the tall dragon shifter who’d once headed their Special Forces unit strode up, pointing at him.

  “We got a call for a new job,” Silas said. “Security at the Kapa’akea resort.”

  Hunter ground his teeth. He’d just come from the resort, and he didn’t have the focus to be an effective security guard at the moment. Not with his bear obsessing about his mate all the time.

  Silas seemed to read his mind. “It’s just what you need.”

  Hunter kicked the dirt. What he needed was his mate. Short of that, he needed the escape of the garage. Why wouldn’t everyone leave him alone?

  “Kai would do a better job,” he grunted.

  “Kai’s going, too.” Silas nodded. “They’ve hired the helicopter for the week.”

  Hunter wondered who they were.

  “What about Boone?”

  “Sorry, man. I’m working security at the surfing championships.” The wolf shifter grinned.

  Hunter nearly protested, but it did make sense. Happy-go-lucky Boone — who was doubly happy now that he’d found his destined mate, Nina — would fit right in at the surfing event.


  “What about Cruz? He could do it.”

  “Cruz is on the job, too,” Silas said as the tiger shifter prowled up, looking as unenthusiastic as Hunter felt. “You start in an hour, so get dressed and ship out.”

  Silas’s tone left no room for argument, and an hour later, Hunter was back on the manicured grounds of the Kapa’akea resort with Cruz, both of them tugging on their ties and scowling deeply as Lorraine, a woman from hotel security, showed them around.

  “Over there is the tent for the reception, and behind that is catering.” She waved over the huge expanse of lush grass that separated the third hole of the golf course from the beach.

  “Who’s getting married?” Cruz grumbled.

  “Regina somebody or other,” Hunter sighed.

  Lorraine turned and gaped. “Regina Vanderpelt. The Regina Vanderpelt.” She looked from Cruz to Hunter and back to Cruz. “You know her, right?”

  Hunter remembered what the valet had said earlier. She’s famous for being famous.

  “The one with the sex tape scandal?” Cruz yawned into the back of his hand.

  Lorraine shushed him quickly. “We’re not supposed to mention that. But, yes. The one with the sex tape scandal — and the drug scandal. The fashion-line-produced-by-child-labor-in-Bangladesh scandal, too. You name it, she’s done it.”

  Funny, the clean-cut hotel employee sounded almost wistful as she described the bride.

  Just the family name makes me suspicious, Cruz sniffed, shooting the words into Hunter’s mind as all closely bonded shifters could. Seriously — Vanderpelt?

  Hunter grimaced. From what he recalled, the family had made its fortune in oil. Which was bad enough, considering the toll the industry had taken on the wildest parts of Alaska.

  Visions of his childhood jumped into his mind, and he forced himself to concentrate on the good parts instead of the bad. The evil men who’d taken away his loved ones were dead and gone. There was no need to dwell on them.

  His bear growled inside. Jericho Deroux…

  He closed his eyes, pushing the thought — and the name — out of his mind. A gentle breeze wafted over the manicured grounds, and the sweet fragrance of tropical flowers reminded him that he was living a whole new life in Maui. A good life. He had a great place to live alongside his shifter brothers. Even if the others weren’t technically brothers, they had become as close as family — closer, even — through their years together in the military. So really, what else could a bear wish for?

  His mate, a deep voice inside him growled.

  He frowned, sniffing the air. Amidst the scent of sweat, tanning lotion, and flowers was the faintest whiff of…something he couldn’t exactly place. He looked around, studying the scene for someone or something unusual.

  You smell that? he asked Cruz.

  Cruz shrugged, uninterested. I smell trouble, that’s for sure. All these humans… He scowled.

  Hunter nearly griped, Of course they’re all humans. There were only a handful of shapeshifters on Maui, and he and Cruz knew every one.

  He sniffed again. Was that the scent of shifter he’d picked up? It was so faint, he couldn’t be sure, not even with his keen bear senses.

  What? Cruz asked, catching his concern.

  Not sure, he said, swinging his head, studying the shadows around the perimeter of the lawn. The grounds were bustling with workers unloading equipment, setting out chairs, and studying plans. A scent that faint was hard to judge. It might not be a shifter at all.

  “The wedding itself is going to be on the beach,” Lorraine explained, deaf to their exchange. “And I swear, if these people could hire the weather, they would.” She led Hunter and Cruz toward the shaded porch of the main building. “You two will be accountable to Armor Security, the firm hired to coordinate security for this event. We at the resort have our entire security force on call for the week, but Armor outnumbers us five-to-one, and they’re calling the shots. Them and Veronica, the bride’s personal assistant.”

  She pointed to a no-nonsense woman in a dress suit who tapped into a tablet and gestured to an electrician. Everything about the fifty-something-year-old said professional and calm — the opposite of the whirlwind approaching from the right.

  “Uh-oh. Make way for Bridezilla,” Lorraine whispered as a shrill cry broke out.

  A young woman stomped up, and a path cleared like the waters parting before Moses.

  “No, no, no! It’s all wrong.”

  How anyone could move that fast on platform espadrilles, Hunter wasn’t sure, but the young woman stormed along as intent as a tornado out to destroy everything in its path. She wore oversize sunglasses and a sheer, see-through top with a bright pink bikini underneath — all in all, the picture of a haughty supermodel, though the pinched look on her face made Hunter doubt she’d make a magazine cover for anything but her wealth or bratty escapades. A thick gold bracelet shone on her wrist, and her diamond earrings caught the sun. A string of exquisite pearls shimmered at her slim neck, and something purple flashed on her ring finger, catching Hunter’s attention.

  “Veronica!” she screeched.

  Everyone in a hundred-foot radius cringed.

  “Yes, Regina?” the personal assistant asked in a completely neutral tone.

  Hunter wondered why rich girls always looked so underfed — and so unhappy.

  “This is a disaster!” the bride-to-be announced.

  Cruz shot Hunter a look. Next time, we get the surf championship job.

  “Come and see,” the young bride commanded, and everyone either lunged forward obediently or backed the hell away. Hunter and Cruz were the only two who held their ground. But when Hunter saw the bride headed to the garage he’d parked the Rolls Royce in earlier, he followed, too.

  Regina stopped beside the vehicle and thrust her hands on her hips. “That is a disaster!”

  Hunter stood beside Toby, the valet, who’d come along for the spectacle, and peeked into the garage. If Toby had messed with the Rolls, he’d kill him. But the vehicle gleamed in the sun, undamaged.

  “What’s wrong?” Veronica asked.

  The haughty young woman ran a finger along the perfect wax job Hunter had spent hours on. “This is not the car I wanted.”

  Hunter pursed his lips. He’d never met someone who was picky about which Rolls Royce they drove as long as it was a Rolls.

  “I want the one the Queen has,” Regina sniffed. “Who brought me this piece of junk?”

  Junk? Hunter’s eyes slid toward Cruz. Were they really expected to put up with this brat?

  Her entourage consulted tablets or looked at their feet, but Toby looked at Hunter, and Regina whirled. “I said I wanted the one Queen Elizabeth has.”

  “Um… Which one is that?” Hunter could name a few dozen models and special editions, but heck. How would he know which model the Queen had?

  Clearly, Regina Vanderpelt didn’t know either, but she stomped her foot anyway. “The big one.”

  Cruz twitched his nose. Hunter just shrugged.

  “And what’s that thing doing next to my car?” Regina shrieked, pointing. “Get it out of there.”

  The amethyst in her engagement ring flashed in the sun, but Hunter’s attention jumped to the big guy on the left — a personal bodyguard, no doubt — when the man grabbed a broom and lunged into the garage.

  Hunter’s first worry was that the guy would ding the car, but then he heard a piteous mewing sound and the scramble of tiny paws. He dashed in, body-checked the bodyguard aside, and scooped up a tiny calico kitten before the man could hit it.

  “It’s just a kitten,” he protested, cuddling it to his chest.

  “Well, it looks filthy, and I don’t want it near my car — even if it isn’t the car I wanted,” Regina sniffed. “Now, about that ice sculpture, Veronica…” She breezed on, and Hunter and Cruz watched her go.

  We are so not taking this job, Cruz murmured into his mind.

  Hunter nodded. No way was he working for that
spoiled brat.

  “Don’t fuck with me again,” Regina’s bodyguard murmured as he shouldered by. He kept his eyes down, though — a sure sign he recognized who was top dog.

  Hunter turned, keeping the kitten sheltered while he nuzzled it with his chin. “Poor little guy.”

  “Calicos are always female,” Cruz pointed out.

  It figured a tiger would know that.

  Hunter petted the kitten gently, imagining the tiny creature’s panic and confusion all too well. “Did you lose your mom?” he whispered, holding it close. “Don’t worry, I won’t let the bad guys get you.” He shot a look at Regina Vanderpelt’s back. “We’ll get you out of here, little one.”

  I’d love to shift in front of all these people and teach them to pick on someone their own size, Cruz growled into his mind. You know — show our fangs, snarl a few times. That would do it.

  Hunter was tempted too, and his inner bear doubly so. But he and Cruz knew better than to shift in front of humans — him, most of all. Most shifters relished their ability to change between forms, but he’d had the joy of it pounded out of him at an early age. The distant relatives who had reluctantly taken him in after his mother’s death had forbidden him to shift.

  That father of yours, they tut-tutted.

  His father was half wild grizzly, half shifter, which gave Hunter the rare ability to shift forms as a child rather than starting as a young adult. His mother had seen it as a blessing, but his city-dwelling aunt had considered it a curse.

  Never, ever shift where a human can see you. You understand?

  Most humans didn’t know about the existence of shifters. If they discovered the truth, their fears would spark the kind of frenzied witch-hunts that had nearly annihilated shifters centuries before.

  Hide your bear side. No one can know about us.

  If only humans understood that there were good and bad shifters just like there were good and bad people.

  Never, ever let your bear out. Who knows how wild your inner beast might be?

  So he’d done his best to pretend he didn’t have a second soul inside. His relatives insisted on it, and he wanted — needed — to please them. He’d done his best to fit in, but all the while, his inner bear had ached and cried.