Bear Guard

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Bear Guard Page 4

by Zoe Chant


  On the other hand, she really shouldn’t have those thoughts at all. Also, why Darrell? Wouldn’t the sheriff usually have someone actually working for him trail her?

  “Why you?” she finally asked, then inexplicably found herself blushing again as she imagined Darrell keeping watch over her even in her bedroom. “Don’t get me wrong, but... Wouldn’t he usually send someone who’s actually on his payroll?”

  “He trusts me,” Darrell said earnestly. “It’s a small town. It’s different out here. He and I, we’re not quite family—but almost. He knows he can count on me. Also, this isn’t the big city. The sheriff’s got two men working for him, and right now they’re out there at the place of the accident.”

  “Do you think that’s what it was?” Carrie still felt uneasy whenever she thought about what had—or had not—happened there.

  Not knowing was what made it so unsettling. If only she could remember whatever had happened past that one flash of bright headlights...

  “I don’t know.” Darrell settled back in his chair. “Maybe it was an accident, and maybe whoever caused it was shocked, or just a coward, or maybe both. Maybe they just drove away as your car went hurtling down that incline. But if there’s anything else behind it...”

  “Like what?” Carrie shook her head, then had to laugh despite herself. “Do you think my boss got in trouble with the mafia? That’s really not what an accountant’s life is like, despite what the movies tell you. There was never... Well, there was that one big case he had, a year ago. One client of ours, who ended up in trouble with law enforcement. But I’m probably not allowed to tell you about that, and you can read it all in the papers anyway. Either way, that’s got nothing to do with me.”

  Now Darrell frowned. “Do you mind if I look into that anyway?”

  “Feel free to.” Carrie stretched, then couldn’t suppress a yawn as her exhaustion caught up with her once more. “The name’s Costa. The local press had a couple of articles.”

  “Time for a nap?” Darrell suggested, his eyes warm as they lingered on her. “I’ll be right down here when you wake up. No one’s getting past me.”

  “And then, you can tell me all about those werewolf theories of yours.” Carrie nearly giggled, especially when Darrell’s reaction to her ridiculous suggestion was just a serious nod. Then another yawn escaped her, and she nearly stumbled when she got up.

  “Oh God, all right, nap now. And lots of coffee when I wake up again. Ugh. Night,” she mumbled, blinking blearily at Darrell.

  It was strange, but it was reassuring to know that he was sitting down here while she slept. The weird talk of werewolves aside, she couldn’t imagine anyone she’d rather have watching over her while she slept—and not just because he was incredibly hot and made some primal part of her ache with sudden, overwhelming need.

  He gave off an air of confidence that made her feel completely safe. He was the sort of man who’d know how to take charge in a dangerous situation. And of course, those muscles of his didn’t hurt...

  I haven’t had a date in ages. And he’s hot. And I’m probably in shock or something like that. That’s all it is...

  She was so exhausted that she fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. But even in her dreams, she felt haunted by those warm, golden eyes that seemed to look straight into her, down to the innermost, secret parts of her heart.

  Chapter Six: Darrell

  Carrie had slept until evening. Dutifully, Darrell had called Chris to pass on the information about the Costa case, although Chris agreed that it sounded very unlikely that some small-town accountant case would send werewolves after the accountant’s assistant.

  “Just keep watch over her,” Chris said. “There are enough strange things coming together here that I’d feel better if a shifter’s keeping an eye on her at all times, until we’ve got this figured out. Or at least find the missing driver. No lead on him yet, but we’ve just sent samples to the lab. Once we know what car we’re looking for, I promise this’ll be over quickly. Those hit-and-run types never make it far.”

  “If it’s werewolves, I’m not so sure about that,” Darrell muttered after he’d ended the call.

  As a former fighter, he and his bear had enough experience with werewolves to know that they really didn’t want to deal with any feral wolf shifters here in the town that had become their new home.

  Linden Creek was the perfect home for a bear. The small town was peaceful, and perfect for families—but what Darrell and the other bear shifters of his clan liked best was the endless forest that stretched out for mile after mile, covering valleys and rolling hills. Even for a bear who was a loner at heart, there was space enough for hours of running and hunting, plus the occasional hour of socializing with the cubs, or a good-natured wrestle with another bear.

  Any threat to that peace would have set his bear on edge. The instinct to defend his clan’s territory was powerful, and an all too natural response.

  But now that he’d found his mate, it felt like the entire world had shifted. Darrell hadn't even marked her with his scent, and already his bear was bristling with anger at the thought of the smallest threat to her.

  And it wasn’t like he’d imagined that threat. Something was definitely wrong.

  Someone pushed her car off the road. Might have been an accident... but what if it wasn’t? Either way, she might have been killed.

  His bear bristled again at the thought. In his mind, Darrell’s bear was rearing up, strong paws itching to run and hunt down the wolf they’d scared off earlier. But Darrell couldn’t leave. He was responsible for his mate’s safety now.

  Leave it to the police, Darrell told his bear. It’s boring work you wouldn’t like anyway. I bet Chris is sitting at his computer right now, going through databases of cars, or whatever it is he does all day. For now, we’re needed right here.

  Right here by our mate, his bear agreed, the anger gone from his voice. Are we going to make a nest for the winter together? Build a home, with lots of space for cubs?

  With a meadow full of clover, and blueberry bushes, Darrell thought with quiet yearning.

  Then he took a deep breath. The sudden longing for the happiness his clan mates had found took him by surprise. So far he’d always been happy enough to play the fun uncle, the one who’d take the cubs out for a day to the camp in the forest, teaching them how to fish and how to find the ripest berries. He’d never wanted a family of his own—not until he’d seen Carrie.

  Now it felt like something in his soul had opened. It wasn’t so much an emptiness, because he had his clan. He was happy enough with his life.

  But now, with sudden clarity, he saw the possibility of more.

  And it was impossible not to want it. He wanted it with every fiber of his heart. Someone to run with him through those patches of clover in the sun. Someone who’d laugh when they got surprised by a sudden summer shower. Someone for long, lazy Sunday mornings in bed, and someone he could show all the secrets of the forest.

  Someone who’d be his mate. A strong woman with her own life, her own dreams and fears and needs, who’d trust him enough to share all of those things with him.

  Darrell had never been afraid of being alone—but together it would be so much better.

  He had a good life here. After the life of constant fighting he’d escaped, he’d always been grateful for the peace and happiness his clan had found in Linden Creek.

  But there was more than happiness. When he looked into Carrie’s eyes, felt her scent wash over him, thought of the heat of her body in his arms, he was filled with a delirious contentment.

  It was so much stronger than happiness. It was like the moment when he shifted, suddenly able to see colors and smell scents his human part had never known existed.

  That was what Carrie did to him. He’d been happy before—but now he knew that there was so much more. And seeing this possibility of utter perfection that had hit him with the force of a lightning bolt, how could he stop yearning f
or it?

  We’ll take it slowly, he reminded his bear. She had a terrible day. After this nap, she’ll be more like herself. She even asked about the werewolf. I think her memory’s coming back.

  Imagine not remembering me, his bear said reproachfully. Why, if you ever dared to forget me, I’d roar and growl in your head until you came to your senses!

  Maybe that’s what happened, Darrell thought. Maybe, when the accident happened and the shock blocked out a part of her, her own cat was so scared and angry that she couldn’t talk to Carrie either.

  What a mess, his bear said, and then huffed. If it ever happens to you, you better watch out...

  I wouldn’t dare to insult you in such a way, Darrell promised silently with an amused twist of his lips.

  Then he rose at the sound of steps on the stair. A moment later, Carrie came into the lounge, looking a lot better than she’d looked earlier. Her eyes were bright and awake, and she’d changed into clothes that Chris’ mate had helpfully donated.

  She wore a black shirt that brought out highlights of red and gold in her hair, which was still a little damp from her shower and smelled deliciously of that warm, spicy scent that said Carrie, mingled with a gentle flower-of-the-valley scent from the shampoo.

  With the shirt, she’d opted for a skirt that flared a little every time she moved, making her already graceful movements that much more enticing. Darrell stared at her, his mouth suddenly dry as he thought of her dancing in the sunlight, barefoot in a sunny patch of clover, breathless and full of joy, her arms outstretched for him to join her...

  “Thanks for waiting around,” she said, her eyes darkening a little as she looked at him.

  Embarrassed, Darrell realized that he must have been staring.

  “Don’t mention it,” he said. “We take care of each other here. And the sheriff would have my hide if I let anything happen to you while he’s trying to catch whoever hit your car.”

  “Any news yet?” Carrie gratefully took hold of a mug of coffee he’d poured her.

  “They’re waiting for a lab report. They found some remnants of color on the wreck of your car. Sheriff said they’ll be able to find out the color and even the type of car that way.”

  “Did he reach my boss?” There was a sudden crease of worry on Carrie’s forehead. “Ugh, I’m going to need a new phone too...”

  “Not yet,” Darrell said. “Is that usual for him?”

  Mutely, Carrie shook her head. “He’s practically welded to his phone and laptop. But—wait, it’s Saturday now? It’s his daughter's wedding. If she knows her dad, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d banned him from bringing his phone. He’s the sort of guy who’d work during the ceremony.”

  “Hm.” Darrell frowned again. “That makes sense, I guess. Still. You’re welcome to my phone if you need to call your friends, and Angela has a small computer for her guests over there—”

  “Oh, that’s just what I need.” Carrie made a sound of profound relief when she turned to find the battered old desktop computer on a table in the corner. “Give me just a minute?”

  “Take as much time as you want. I’ll keep watch,” Darrell said with a wink.

  We could bring our mate tasty treats. She’ll feel better right away, his bear grumbled a suggestion. Maybe we can go hunting tomorrow. Cats like mice, right?

  Let’s just start with some cupcakes, Darrell thought back. And then get back to the topic of shifters very slowly. That accident really startled her. The nurse said she might need some time to recover from the shock.

  A cat shouldn’t be all out on her own in the forest, his bear said protectively. Was she cold without a clan? Did she have enough food? Was she—

  Whoa, slow down. Darrell couldn't help but grin at his bear’s surge of fierce protectiveness. She’s no cub. Look at her. She can stand up for herself. And I hate to tell you, but I fear she’s a lot smarter than you and I will ever be...

  As soon as Carrie had sat down at the computer, she’d straightened, her hands moving in a flurry over the creaky old keyboard. Darrell and his bear watched in awed silence as Carrie juggled what seemed like an endless row of window after blinking window, typing here, clicking there, and typing so fast that it seemed like the words appeared out of nowhere.

  “Phew. Thank god for Facebook. Now I feel better,” Carrie sighed when she turned around after a few minutes. “All friends updated and reassured, and I left a message for my boss, congratulations on the bride and groom’s page, and even sent off a few quick emails to some of our pushier clients. Still connected to the world, even without my phone.”

  Darrell gave her an impressed look. “They made me get a Facebook, for planning when we take the cubs out to the camp. But I still prefer to just call—”

  “Cubs?” Carrie grinned up at him as she sat down at the table by his side once more. “Is this a boy scout thing?”

  Has she really forgotten all about shifters? I thought it was just a bit of confusion from the accident...

  Frowning once more, Darrel said, “Yes, something of the sort. Look, how do you feel now? You look much better, but is your head hurting? Is there any dizziness? Anything... do you remember anything weird?”

  “Now that you say it, I had the weirdest dream. Of paws and fur and... and running as if I was a cat?” She looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “That’s pretty crazy, isn’t it? I don’t even own a pet. I’ve got a stuffed bear left from childhood, but—”

  “Oh, you like bears?” The worry over her loss of memory was momentarily overwhelmed by his bear’s happiness.

  There. She always knew she was fated for a bear.

  Don’t be silly, Darrell told his bear, barely able to suppress his laughter. Stuffed bears are really common. I think I had one, too, when I was a cub.

  “I’m more of a horse person,” she said. “If you can be a horse person when you’ve only ever gotten a ride on a pony once in your childhood. But I read all the pony books in the school library.”

  “I think that counts,” Darrell said, eying her animated face with frank appreciation. The memory had brought a spark back into her eyes that made him want to go out and find a horse for her. A horse and a house and a garden, to woo his mate.

  Slow down, he told himself to his bear’s disapproving grumble. First she needs to get her memory back.

  “How do you feel about a walk?” he asked. “Some fresh air might help. We could always check in on the sheriff on our way back.”

  “I’d like that,” she said, then looked down at her sandals and skirt. “Will I have to change?”

  “No.” Darrell’s throat went dry again as he followed her eyes, lingering on the gorgeous, soft curve of her thighs. “No, you look... you look just right.”

  With a soft giggle, Carrie twirled around once, the skirt flaring around her, then settling down in shimmering folds once more.

  “I love this skirt! You have to remind me to thank whoever got those clothes for me.”

  “It was the sheriff’s wife, actually,” Darrell said. “She runs a bakery in town. We should go and try her cupcakes one of these days.”

  “A cupcake date? I’d like that,” she said teasingly, then blushed a little.

  “I’d like that too. Very much. A date,” Darrell said quietly.

  Carrie smelled like warmth and flowers right now, and the need to wrap his arms around her and hold her close was almost a physical pain.

  Instead, he held out his hand. When Carrie accepted it, a new jolt of heat ran through him. She gave a soft gasp, as if she’d felt it as well—and then her fingers threaded through his.

  “Then show me your town,” she said, her eyes dark and warm as she looked up at him.

  ***

  Half an hour later, they’d visited the small bakery and shared three different cupcakes between them. Afterward, Darrell had led them onto a path that meandered away from the small town, curving between two fields towards the forest-covered hills that surrounded Linden Cr
eek.

  “So,” Carrie said, grinning up at him. “You seem like a sensible guy. And I quite like you. So what’s the story behind the werewolf thing? Is this like a local legend? The way they’ve got that monster in a lake in Scotland, and fairies in Iceland?”

  Darrell stopped and gave her a searching look. “You still don’t remember about werewolves?” he asked softly. “Shifters? What about your parents? Do you remember them? Their animals?”

  Carrie froze. A moment later, she pulled her hand out of his, turning away from him. Her voice was tight when she finally spoke.

  “I don’t know my parents. I grew up in different foster families—I was told I was a difficult baby. They said... well, I was just a baby, and I guess those families were overwhelmed by the reality of a baby? But apparently I was weird. I don’t really remember them, though. When I was five, I was placed with new foster parents. I stayed with them until I finished school and found my own place.”

  Carrie shrugged uncomfortably before she continued. “We’re not close, but they aren’t bad people. I guess we just never really clicked in that family sense. And I know a lot of people had it way worse than me, so I’m grateful.”

  “Wait,” Darrell said slowly as he stared at her, trying to make sense of what he’d just heard. “You mean you grew up with... No, that can’t be. Were they... were they human foster parents?”

  Carrie took a step away from him, her hands on her hips as she gave him a weird look. “You’re joking, right? Is this your strange werewolf thing again? Of course they’re human, what else would they be? Look, I like you, Darrell, but can you cut out the conspiracy theories? You’re making me really uncomfortable.”

  Darrell was still staring at her, his heart racing as suddenly everything began to make sense. “You mean you don’t know that you’re a shifter?”

  Carrie glared at him. “I have no idea what that even means. I told you, I’m an accountant's assistant.”

  “And you’re also a shifter, Carrie.” Darrell was watching her carefully, his hands raised to show that he meant no harm. “You can turn into a cat. Just like I can turn into a bear.”

 

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