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Bear Fire: Bear Shifter Paranormal Romance (BBW) (Pine Ridge BBW Bear Shifter Paranormal Romance Series Book 4)

Page 2

by Belinda Meyers


  She sort of smiled, but it was an ironic smile. “The city. New York.”

  He whistled. “You’re a long way from home, girl. Er, Jackie.”

  “Don’t I know it.”

  “What brought you up into the Rockies on a cold spring night?”

  “There’s no time to explain. Please, just get me to that address.”

  He crossed his arms across his chest and stiffened his back. “I’ll help you, and I won’t take any payment. But you will tell me what all this is about.”

  She groaned in impatience. “Fine, Matt. But I’ll tell you on the way. Let’s go.”

  Her impatience was infectious. Suddenly realizing that she really might be in danger—actual physical danger—and that it might catch up to her if he dallied too long, Matt uncrossed his arms. Finally he reached out and gently gripped her hand. She gasped and started to draw away, then didn’t.

  “Come with me,” he said, and tugged her toward the door. After a quick, suspicious glance at the shadows all around, as if just to be sure her enemies weren’t sneaking up on her, she followed.

  He grabbed his jacket, which hung by the door, and shrugged it on. Turning, he waved goodbye to his friends, letting them know he was taking off, and they waved back. A few wore curious expressions. Ignoring them, he shoved the door open and held it for Jackie.

  “Wait a minute,” she said once they were outside, the cold wind whipping about them. She stepped forward, scanning the dark parking lot tensely. He got the impression she was making sure someone wasn’t lying in wait here, too. Just who the hell was after her, anyway?

  When she seemed satisfied, she said, “Okay. Let’s move.”

  He brought her to his pick-up (Big Bertha, whose bright red colors were muted at night) and opened the passenger door for her. He didn’t miss her eye-roll when she saw his jacked-up tires. Huh, he thought. City girl. He slid behind the wheel, started the engine and switched on the heat. The cold didn’t bother him much, but he could tell from the way she shivered and rubbed her hands that it was getting to her.

  “So what’s all this about?” he said as he eased the truck out onto the road and headed in the direction of the west side of town, where the address had indicated.

  She didn’t answer at first, and he cast her a glance. She seemed to be debating something.

  “Well?” he pressed. “We had a deal.”

  She let out a long sigh. “Well, this is Pine Ridge, right? There are a lot of shifters around, so you probably know a little about the paranormal, right?”

  He smiled. “I know a little.”

  “Well, I happen to be in possession of something that’s a little … magical.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Magical? Really?”

  “Yeah.”

  “‘In possession’,” he repeated, tasting the words. “Somehow that strikes me as an interesting phrase.” Hazarding a guess, he said, “Did this item originally belong to you?”

  Her eyes swiveled to him, then back to the road. “You won’t narc on me?”

  “Why would I?”

  “I saw that woman you were hanging around with, back at the bar. She was a cop.”

  He crossed a finger over his heart, then put it back on the wheel. “I won’t narc on you, Jackie-girl. That woman was Barbara, a friend of mine. The mate of another friend. She’s cool.”

  “She’s a cop,” Jackie said, and her voice carried a hint of finality.

  Matt grunted. “So you’re a thief or something?”

  She straightened her back. “A cat burglar, actually.”

  “Same diff.”

  “That’s like saying a high school B-Team player is the same as a pro-baller.”

  He laughed. “You follow football?”

  Somewhat primly, she said, “I was trying to use an example you would understand.”

  “Don’t patronize me, girl,” he said, intentionally not using Jackie. At the same time he took a turn somewhat sharper than he needed to. He smiled when he heard her swear under her breath.

  She clipped her seatbelt on and turned to glare at him. “Anyway, I am not just a thief. I’m a pro. And I only steal from bad guys. I don’t take stuff from honest people. From good people. Only villains. And I have a … specialty.”

  “Oh?”

  “I only steal magical items. Sometimes from shifters that use them to enhance their powers, sometimes from regular folk who use them to control others, or curse them, or whatever. Every now and then I’ll take something from a mage that I think’s gotten out of hand and is doing bad things with it.”

  “A mage?” Matt chuckled. “Like a wizard?”

  “It’s not funny.”

  “It’s a little funny. You steal from Gandalf!”

  She narrowed her eyes at him; he could see it out of the corner of his vision. “I do not steal from good guys, remember,” she growled. “The correct analogy would be Saruman. The evil wizard that betrayed Gandalf. And we don’t call them wizards, we call them mages. No pointy hats or robes.”

  He made another turn, mulling on it. The town scrolled by to the either side, dark and silent. There was still a layer of snow on the ground, and smoke curled up from countless chimneys. Most people still hunkered in their homes, curled up on their beds and couches, waiting for warmer weather. He and Jackie must be crazy to be out on a night like this about some crazy errand involving wizards. He could see the freezing wind shake the pine trees to either side of the road, even feel it press against the truck.

  At last he said, “So this item you … er, stole. It’s from a mage?”

  “Not originally. No. But it was in the possession of a very bad dude, a mage named Walsh.”

  “Walsh? That’s not a wizard name! He should have a name like … I don’t know, like Luvoticus or something.”

  “Shows what you know. Besides, he travels in the upper echelons of New York society. I think they’d raise their eyebrows at—what was it?—Luvothorot.”

  “Luvoticus. Keep up.”

  “Whatever. Mages haven’t come out of the closet like shifters have. They’re not supposed to exist, and they want to keep it that way. So whatever he used to be called, it’s Jonas Walsh now. Patron of the arts and philanthropist.”

  Matt considered. “If that was all he did, I take it you wouldn’t have stolen from him. Which means he must be up to no good. Is that right?”

  He could hear the hatred in her voice when she answered: “He’s a villain of the highest order, Matt. And he’s very powerful.”

  A sudden blast of worry shook Matt, and he had to struggle to throw it off. It was just the dark, he told himself. Just the cold. And all this talk of spooky stuff.

  “So you stole something from a powerful, evil wizard, and now he’s after you, is that about right?” Matt said.

  “Yes. I think he’ll have sent his goons after me first, to track me down, maybe corner me and hold me. Then he’ll show up and take back what I stole. And …”

  “Yeah?”

  “Punish me.” She shuddered, and his shifter senses picked up the smell of fear coming off of her. It was rank.

  And infectious. She really believed this Walsh guy was bad news. Her utter certainty was starting to get under Matt’s skin.

  “Don’t worry,” he said, with more confidence than he felt. “I’ll protect you.”

  “You? Why would you do that for me?”

  Matt’s bear growled inside him. Shifting uncomfortably, he said, “It’s the right thing to do. Anyway, here we are.”

  He made the last turn and slowed, reading the numbers on the houses. He was going the right way. The houses to either side were huge and dark, most hidden behind high walls and broad grounds. This was a rich part of town, one he didn’t normally go into.

  “Just who are you meeting here, anyway?” he said.

  “There!” she said, pointing to an ornate stone mailbox, evidently reading the address off it. “That’s the one.”

  Matt parked at the curb.


  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  Instead of doing that, though, she stared out at the darkness, then flicked a glance at the truck’s air vents.

  “I know, right?” he said. “It was just starting to get a little toasty in here, and now we have to go out again. Oh, well, I guess your friend will have the heat on. Just who is he?”

  Jackie still didn’t answer. Visibly bracing herself, she shoved the door open and leapt down to the sidewalk. Snorting, Matt climbed down and joined her. She was stabbing a button at the gateway. A high brick wall surrounded the estate, and the only way Matt could see in—other than the larger gateway for the driveway—was this smaller gateway for foot traffic. A sidewalk led through it across the grounds all the way up to the front door of the mansion.

  “Damn it,” Jackie said, when no one buzzed them in. “What’s taking him so long?”

  “Taking who so long?”

  “Bryan Tannenbaum. He’s a mage, too. A good mage,” she added. “We had an appointment at the bar, but he didn’t show up. Instead he sent someone to send me here. He hadn’t given me his home address, and it must have been listed under a different name, because I couldn’t find it when I searched for his house online, just in case. He’s obviously very careful, so he must be really freaked if he asked me to meet him at his home. Here, help me over the wall.”

  “You want to break in?”

  She shivered and rubbed her hands. “Well, I don’t want to stay out here all night, that’s for sure. And I am a cat burglar. It’s kind of what we do. And if you don’t want to help, fine. I can get up myself. Just don’t call the fuzz on me.”

  He had to smile. ‘Fuzz’. Where’d you learn your slang from, Hill Street Blues?”

  “Hill what? Never mind.”

  She reached out a hand to the wall, searching the brick face for irregularities. Finding one, she nimbly pulled herself up, then grabbed the top of the wall and swung herself onto the broad surface up there. Matt stared up at her, frowning. Should he follow? This was a bit out of his line. Still, he couldn’t help but feel that she was still in danger. She might need him before this was done.

  “Well?” she said. “You coming? If not, it was nice to know you, Matt Whatever Your Last Name Is. Have a good life.”

  He narrowed his eyes. Stifling a curse, he, with less grace, fumbled a handhold and hauled himself up, then joined her on the top of the wall. They were face-to-face now, and he noted the gleam in her eyes and the flushed look of her cheeks. She was starting to come alive, he realized, in a way she hadn’t before. She lived for this stuff. Or maybe it just put her mojo back. Fear had driven it away before, but now daring and intrigue—and her competence at those two things—had restored it.

  He liked seeing her like this, all confident and sexy.

  Her lips were slightly parted, breathing fast, and little puffs of steam escaped them with every exhalation.

  Impulsively, he bent his head forward and kissed her.

  Chapter 3

  Feeling her eyes fly wide open, Jackie started to jerk backward. Who did this crazy mountain man think he was, anyway? And this was no time for kissing! But his lips felt good against hers, and she didn’t break away—at first. She leaned into the kiss, just slightly, and started to open her mouth to receive him. Her tongue brushed his, and one of her hands reached out and flattened against his ridged eight-pack. Ooo, he was hard, and hot, too. Like a buff furnace. She wondered if the rest of him were hard.

  What was she doing?

  She pulled back and stared at him. “What was that?” she said, hearing the raggedness in her voice. Shit, she could feel the heat pooling in her center. Despite everything, this Matt guy had turned her on.

  “Just seemed the right thing to do,” he said.

  “Well. It wasn’t.”

  It was dark out, but streetlights lit the posh neighborhood, and she could see one corner of his mouth quirk up in a cocky smile.

  “You sure?” he said.

  “Yes!”

  His broad shoulders rose up in a shrug. “Okay.”

  She could almost hear the If you say so. She studied him for another moment, then shook it off. She had bigger things to worry about. She had been astride the wall, but now she flung her outside leg inside and jumped down. Her knees flexed easily, and she crouched on the grass like a cat.

  With a grunt, Mat dropped down beside her like some sort of big lumbering beast.

  “Quiet!” she hissed.

  “Why? I thought this was a friend of yours.”

  She sniffed. Speaking in a whisper, she said, “Never met him. My regular contact for this sort of thing is in New York. But he wouldn’t touch this one.”

  “Why?”

  “Afraid of Walsh, of course. I had to cast my net wide to find a mage I could use under Walsh’s radar—and brave enough to risk his wrath. Tannenbaum was the best I could find.”

  Matt nodded, and she liked the grim, tough look on his face. This was a man who was no stranger to action, she could tell. He might be handy if things went south. Jackie had never had anyone she could rely on before, not for a long time, and part of her resisted the idea that that could change. Those who get soft get taken. That’s what her mentor in the burglaring world had taught her.

  “So anything could be waiting for us in there,” Matt said.

  “That’s right. So be as quiet as you can.”

  She was crouched right next to him, and one of her arms just barely rubbed his. It was a total accident. Well, mostly.

  He seemed to notice. His grim look faded, and amusement danced in his eyes when his handsome face turned back to hers. His lips were still a bit reddened (as red as she could see in the dimness, anyway) from their kissing.

  “Want another?” he said.

  “What? No!” She shook her head. “Concentrate!” She wasn’t sure if she said that more to him or to herself. “Come on, let’s get going.”

  Still hunkered over, she moved forward, threading her way through the high, ornate hedges that filled Tannenbaum’s lawn. Ahead loomed the high, vaguely Gothic mansion. Shit, gargoyles even crouched in the corners, and one side of the house rose up in a lofty spire. Wind howled fiercely, shaking hedges and raising gooseflesh on the nape of Jackie’s neck. Adrenaline rushed like fire through her veins, and she embraced it.

  She paused when she reached the last hedge. Beyond stretched the driveway, then the canopied front porch with its graceful columns. The huge, polished wood door stood beyond.

  It yawned open.

  Breath caught in Jackie’s throat.

  “The door’s open,” Matt said, crouching next to her. “That can’t be good.”

  “Maybe Tannenbaum left it open for us,” she said, thinking fast. “An invitation.”

  “You believe that?”

  Instead of answering, she said, “Keep moving.”

  She darted toward the door. Crossed the driveway, jumped up the stairs and paused on the threshold of the mansion. Beyond the partially open door stretched the foyer, then a grand staircase rising from a marble floor. A decorative statue rose from the marble in the center of the lobby. Some of the mansion’s lights were on, but some weren’t. She couldn’t tell if the place was occupied or not. She heard no sounds from within.

  “Well?” Matt said, startling her. “Should we go in or call this off?”

  “No, we go in. You still with me?”

  “I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” he said.

  “You’re a little too eager, ace. Don’t do anything stupid.”

  He gave her that look again, that look that said he didn’t like being patronized. She almost apologized. But Jackie Gage apologized to no one.

  The wind gusted suddenly, banging the door against the outside wall, and she had to stifle a squeak.

  “Let’s do this,” she said, mastering herself, and slipped into the interior of the mansion. With more grace than she would have expected, Matt followed at her heels, then came up besid
e her. He didn’t seem to like her taking the lead when there could be danger ahead. Again Jackie was tempted to let herself rely on him, but her good sense quickly overrode this. He was just some random guy, she thought. Even if his intentions were good, he wouldn’t be able to handle himself if shit really did go down.

  Matt had closed the door after them, and she appreciated not having the wind blowing on her anymore. The mansion’s heater, if it was on, must be set on low, though, as it was still pretty cold inside. She could still see her breath when she exhaled.

  “Well?” said Matt. “What now?”

  “We find Tannenbaum, what else?” She chastised herself for her abrupt tone. With a sigh, she said—as close to an apology as she could come—“I don’t usually work with a partner.”

  Matt hadn’t seemed to take offense. He seemed hard to phase. Which was good, with her tongue.

  “Should we call out?” he said. “It’s so … quiet in here.”

  Jackie chewed the inside of her cheek. Matt was right, this place was like a tomb, its silence thick and heavy. Idly, her gaze strayed to the statue that rose right before her. It depicted an, er, statuesque woman in clingy flowing robes raising her arm aloft; a hawk was just alighting on her forearm.

  The statue’s eyes blinked and swiveled to Jackie.

  Jackie gasped and leapt back. Matt stalked forward, his fists raised and his eyes darting all about.

  “What is it?” he said.

  Finger trembling, Jackie pointed. Matt’s eyes went to the statue.

  The stone woman’s mouth creaked open, and Jackie shivered at the sound of stone grating on stone.

  “You should not have come,” the stone woman said.

  Jackie’s heart skipped a beat. Then she frowned. “Tannenbaum?” she said. The statue had spoken in a male voice, and it was one she recognized from her two phone conversations with the mage.

  “Tannenbaum?” Matt repeated, and glared up at the statue. “He doesn’t look like I pictured.”

  “He’s just speaking through the statue,” Jackie explained, though she knew Matt had been joking. “That’s not really him.”

  Matt gave her a look that said he wasn’t an idiot. To the statue, he said, “Why shouldn’t we have come here?”

 

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