One True Mate 6: Bear's Redemption

by Lisa Ladew

  Mac frowned, pulling into the parking lot. “Well yeah. You may have a point. Ok, bro-code is revoked in situations where said individual has been suspected of engaging in criminal activity.” He parked the truck in the only empty spot in the packed parking lot, five spots to the left of where the other car had parked.

  “Whoop! You heard Mac! He’s a ‘No-Go Bro.’ Swoop, swoop!” Rogue cried, pushing at Bruin.

  He opened the door and shot out of the car, without one idea of how to approach her in his head. Just walk by, hope she noticed him? Bump into her? Fancy meeting you here. No. Ridiculous. He groaned and recited a small bearen prayer. Rhen, perfect deae, mother of all shiften, I beg for your guidance on my path that I may choose the proper way, that you cast light before me so that I never lose my faith or my footing.

  He added his own words.

  I’ll never ask for anything again. I’ll work hard my whole life. I’ll always do what I think is right. I’ll never shirk my duty or say an unkind word, Please, Rhen, just give me the perfect moment. All I need is one opportunity for her to notice me.

  Time seemed to slow down. Bruin became peripherally aware of everything around him. A car drove by on the main road, someone inside the restaurant laughed, like a shriek. Another vehicle, a truck with a loud engine and a muffler that ticked every few seconds, drove by, and slowed on the rural route passing the restaurant.

  The driver’s side door to the little sports car opened and the man inside stood. Bruin hurried that way, his eyes locked on the back of the man’s head. Was he going to open Willow’s door?

  Bruin had to be there first, he had to be the one to open her door but she, beat them both to it. Her shining brown hair appeared as she stood and she glanced at him. Somehow she felt Bruin’s eyes on her and she looked straight at him. He groaned. Now he really looked like a stalker.

  Rogue jostled him as she came up next to him, “Wait,” she said, her voice alarmed. “Is that Soren?”

  Bruin’s heart seized in his chest. Soren, the foxen? The marked foxen? With Willow?

  For the first time in his life, Bruin began to growl like a wolf.

  Chapter 12

  Bruin tensed to run, to kick some foxen tail, when Mac appeared next to him. “Hell, yeah, it is. Rex’s brother.” He gestured to the truck. “Rogue, you stay here.”

  Rogue grabbed at both of them. “What? Why?”

  Bruin had already started forward, but Mac caught up to him. “I’m going to arrest his ass.”

  Soren had already scented them. His nose was in the air as he turned slowly and looked directly at Mac, his face a contradiction of emotions, hopeful yet obstinate, caught but not guilty. In one slick move, Soren turned and said something to Willow as he made to get back in his car.

  Mac sped up. “Shit, he’s gonna run.”

  But faster than either of them could move, a black shape shot past them. It was Troy, then another black shape. Trent. Headed straight for Soren.

  Soren saw them coming and knew he was caught, he couldn’t get in his car fast enough, but he still reacted, sprinting away from them, up the hill behind the restaurant.

  Mac started that way, Rogue too. Mac shouted at her, “Rogue, you stay here. Stay with Bruin.”

  Rogue shook her head, laughter in her voice, already running. “No way. What if he climbs a tree or something? You need me.”

  Mac wanted to argue, but Trent and Troy were out of sight and there was no time. He took off at a run. Rogue tucked her elbows and hoofed it up the hill, until they were all out of sight.

  Bruin stared after them. He would not follow. He needed to stay with Willow and protect her. That truck was coming back, the one with the hitch in its muffler. Bruin ignored it and headed to Willow. Her face was distraught but not at all surprised. Now he would have something to talk to her about. He could explain what exactly was going on. Why her date was being chased into the setting sun like a cartoon road runner.

  The sound of the truck with the faulty muffler seemed to pull up right even with him and slow even more. Bruin turned his head that way, but before he could take in more than a general impression of the vehicle, something pulled at his shirt and carved a firebrand along his back at the same time as a gunshot and the sound of metal slamming against metal. It all couldn’t have happened at once, but it had sounded that way. His feet stuttered as an explosion ripped through the early evening humidity, shooting metal into the air and blasting him with heat and fire, dropping him to his knees.

  The car he’d been walking past had blown up.

  Bruin shook his head and scrambled away from the fire on hands and knees over the burning asphalt, but his first thought was Willow, and he got up to run toward the little sports car that she’d last been standing next to. He didn’t see her. Panic tore at him, and still, his senses told him what was going on around him. The vehicle that had slowed was now speeding up. Bruin shot a glance that way, getting a partial plate and description, then dismissing it. For now.

  People were streaming out of the restaurant, men and women, in their fanciest clothes. Mac, Rogue, Trent, and Troy, were long gone and did not reappear, leaving Bruin in charge of this mess.

  He found Willow on the sidewalk, her hands curled over her head. She’d hit the ground when the car had blown up. Instinct, he prayed, not injury. He knelt by her and touched her shoulder. “Are you hurt?”

  She peeked up at him, relief in her face, and shook her head. “No, just scared.” No accent.

  “Don’t be scared. I’m here now. I’m trained for this kind of thing.”

  He gathered her under her knees and her shoulders and picked her up in a honeymooners carry, ignoring the line of people in his mind, and ran with her away from the restaurant, away from the hill, away from the burning car until he found a bench at the far end of the parking lot to set her on. “You stay right here. I’m going to take care of all of this. My name is Bruin, and if you call it, I’ll be back to your side in two taps to a bee’s knees.” He glanced over his shoulder at the messy scene behind him. “I’m not going anywhere. I just have to put out that fire.”

  She lifted a hand to him but then dropped it, then waved him away uncertainly. He nodded once and headed back the way they had come from. He stopped at the truck first and pulled out the radio mic, switching it to the police dispatch channel. “Central, this is Firefighter 833. Send police backup to Darapaccio’s Restaurant for officer SRT-436, he’s in pursuit of a fox-ah, of a suspect. He and two canine officers and a civilian are heading north, on foot, behind Darapaccio’s into the woods beyond. Also, send me a fire unit. We’ve got an explosion in the parking lot, unrelated.”

  A female voice came back. “10-4, firefighter 833. Do you need medical?”

  Bruin glanced back at Willow then looked around the parking lot. Nobody seemed injured. “Not at this time.” Bruin dropped the mic and stepped to the back of the truck, pulling out his tool bag.

  He threw it on the ground, hearing the satisfying clunk of the heavy tools within. There was a fire hydrant, but it was almost ten car lengths away from the vehicle that was now fully engulfed. It wouldn’t do him any good to open the fire hydrant without some way to direct the water.

  He rummaged under all of the items in the police truck that they used for raids and search warrants. Battering ram, no. Lock box of weapons, No. Ammunition, no. A tactical ladder, hmm, no. Oh here we go. He pulled the heavy item out of the truck and set it on the ground, only dimly aware of the people congregating outside the restaurant. As long as they stayed a safe distance away, he didn’t care what they did.

  He’d found a ballistic shield. It looked rather like a door but was only about half the size, and heavy. It would not bend under any sort of pressure he could throw at it. He grabbed it out and cradled it under his arm, taking it and the tools to the fire hydrant. Within a few moments, he had the hydrant open and shooting water across the parking lot.

  He grabbed the shield and positioned himself in front of the forcef
ul stream of water, bracing the shield with his body and his arms, turning it to direct the stream the way he wanted it, until water shot across the parking lot and hit the flaming car. Within a few moments, the fire was out. Bruin dropped the shield to the ground and took a breather, glancing to his left again to make sure Willow was still okay.

  She was watching him, eyes wide, hands folded, looking impossibly beautiful.

  He swallowed hard, his throat thick. Time to talk to her. It would be way harder than putting out a fire could ever be.

  Chapter 13

  Willow gasped as the big guy from the restaurant manhandled the police shield in front of the fire hydrant. The force of the stream of water hit the shield and it was clear to Willow that, no matter how big he was, he should have been shot backwards, but instead he dug his feet in to the ground and leaned forward against the flow, directing it where he wanted it to go, directly at the fully-engulfed car. The flames danced higher for a moment, then began to ebb and hiss as the water beat them back.

  Willow could only stare at the most beautiful example of brawn and masculine strength she’d ever seen in her life. She crossed her legs and knotted her fingers together as inappropriate impulses shot through her mind. She wanted him to pick her up over his head and bring her down onto his face, where she would wrap her thighs around his ears…

  Someone screamed and the crowd responded with louder murmurs, pulling Willow’s thoughts back to reality. Her day was only getting stranger. She looked at the people gathering outside the restaurant, determined no one was hurt, then marshaled her thoughts appropriately and directed them to lightly dance back over everything that had just happened.

  She had been in the car with Soroush and he’d told her that he was a wolf.

  “I’m not an angel, I’m a wolf.”

  Willow stared at him, unable to think of a response to that. A wolf? They’d driven in silence for several minutes, then pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant. A meatball. She’d heard of this place, driven past it, never had any desire to go in. But now, here she was.

  He turned off the car, his silence as awkward as ever, then shook his head and frowned sourly. “I don’t know why I said that. I’m a person, obviously.”

  Willow nodded, “Right, a person.” It seemed the only thing to say. She stared at her feet and thought about asking him to take her back home. He had to realize things weren’t going well already. Maybe it was her fault. She was distracted. She’d peeked into his mind and what she’d found was strange. Too strange.

  Soroush got out of the car, and so did Willow, still thinking about calling off the date. But Willow had felt eyes on her and looked over her shoulder.

  He’d been there. The big guy from her restaurant, but with him had been another man and… Rogue!

  Soroush must’ve felt eyes on him also, he turned and saw them, then looked at Willow, his face panicked. He said something to her in a pained voice, she thought it was, “Sorry,” when two large black wolves— they were too big to be anything but wolves— had run towards him, teeth bared, ears back.

  In that moment a thought-form had shot out of Soroush, a purple streaming glut of information. She quickly learned his name was actually Soren and he wasn’t a wolf, or an angel, he was a fox. And a monster.

  Willow shook her head. None of that made any sense.

  Before she’d had time to think about it, an explosion had blasted her eardrums, throwing her to the pavement and then she had been picked up by that guy the second time. Bruin. His name was Bruin and she loved it. She’d never heard it before but it fit him so well. He had brought her over here to this bench and sat her down and now he was performing a feat that should have been impossible. She stared at him, burning his image into her mind, his muscles straining, his dark clothes getting wet, clinging to his body. His dimples, and how they appeared both when he smiled, and when his expression was bent with effort, like it was now.

  She wrapped the image up neatly and stored it in the back of her mind, intending to retrieve it that night when she was alone in her bed.

  He glanced at her as if checking to make sure she was okay, and she blushed and dropped her eyes. If he knew what she was thinking…

  The fire was out. Bruin dropped the shield and picked up his hydrant wrench to turn off the flow of water. He shook the water out of his hair like a dog, spraying drops into the air. People began to stream toward him from the restaurant.

  He held up his hands, his voice booming. “No, stay back, this is still a dangerous scene. Do not come any closer.”

  They obeyed and Willow imagined him ordering her to do something with that rough, deep voice. To lay down maybe. Take off her clothes. She dropped her eyes and played with the pattern on her skirt, her face burning hotter than the car had.

  When she looked up again, he was headed her way, looking massive and in charge. She adjusted her skirt, smoothed down her hair. Sirens sounded from down the road, making Bruin stop and raise his head, then head back to the burnt car as first police cars and then a fire truck pulled into the parking lot, turning off their sirens with a flick of a switch.

  Two uniformed patrol officers approached him first, and he pointed over the hill the way Soren had run and the others had followed. The police officers ran that way.

  Then he explained to the firefighters what had happened to the car, his big arms moving as he gestured widely. Some people from the restaurant began to get in their own cars and drive away, the ones who weren’t blocked in by the emergency vehicles. Others went back into the restaurant, while a few stayed on the steps to watch.

  Bruin dropped his tools in the back of a big, white pickup truck and headed toward her. Willow swallowed, her tongue suddenly thick and her stomach flopsy.

  He wasn’t close enough yet for her to get a good read on him and did she want to? There was something about him, something different, something special. He could mean something to her, so maybe she didn’t want to mess that up by digging around in his mind, if possible. She mustered up a block and stared at him unable to help the smile that came to her face.

  He stopped in front of her, his big body blocking the sun. He opened his mouth, closed it again, opened it again, seeming to search for words to say.

  Willow stood, feeling shy. “That was really amazing what you did. My name is Willow.”

  He grinned then and spoke in a rush, making no more sense than Soroush-Soren had. “I am not a bear. I weigh less than 300 pounds. I am well-liked and respected by my peers. I hate honey, can’t stand the stuff, and I didn’t know your name until just now.”

  He ticked off the statements on his fingers as he said them, as if he was trying to reach a certain number. When he hit five, he dropped his hand and grinned at her, a completely open and adorable grin that made her heart beat faster.

  He stuck his hands in his pockets and raised his shoulders slightly. “Hi,” he said, as if he hadn’t spoken before. “I’m Bruin.” His eyes searched her face and her body for cuts or bruises or blood. “Are you certain you aren’t hurt?”

  Willow brushed at her arms, feeling his eyes travel over her body, but in a practical way. “No, I’m fine. I was surprised by the explosion.”

  He nodded. “We all were.” He looked around, his face solemn. “I should … I should take you home. Can I take you home?”

  Willow nodded.

  His grin widened and he stepped forward, then put an arm around her and leaned down to put another under her knees, and before she knew it she was in his arms again.

  She chuckled. “I can walk.”

  He shook his head. “No,” he said, stumbling over his words. “You can’t. I mean… I know you can walk but you shouldn’t.”

  She giggled again at the absurdity of it all. “I shouldn’t walk?”

  He frowned slightly, looking impossibly adorable. “You shouldn’t have to.”

  Willow couldn’t figure him out and she couldn’t think of anything to do but repeat what he had said. “I s
houldn’t have to walk?”

  Bruin shook his head and blushed, making him look even more adorable and sexy if that was possible.

  She put a hand on his chest. “I’ll tell you what. Is that truck yours?”

  He nodded.

  “Ok. Put me down and I’ll walk over there. You can open the door for me and take me home.”

  “Deal.” He put her down but kind of hovered over her as she walked, like if she stumbled, he was going to sweep her up in his arms again. She liked it.

  They made it to the truck and he opened the door and held out a hand for her climb up with. She slid in and fastened her seatbelt. He didn’t move until she was done and she had tucked her skirt and her feet into the passenger space, then he shut the door and ran around to his seat and before she knew it, they were on their way down the road.

  “I live behind the Honey Depot,” she said.

  He nodded like he knew that.

  She laughed. “Yeah. We just met in the hallway. You picked me up there too.”

  He grinned and laughed a bit, the sound a low rumble that had her insides going gummy.

  She looked at him, suddenly curious. “So how did you end up here?”

  He frowned, then looked at her, then looked back at the road, his eyes hooded. “I cannot tell you a lie. I already told you five. We followed you, me and my friends.”

  She was shocked, but really, it was the only thing that made sense. “Why?”

  His mouth opened and he blurted out four words. “Because I love you.”

  Willow gasped again and covered her mouth with her hand. She had never imagined anyone could be quite so open and honest with their feelings, or that this man could feel that way about her. Did he really? She stared at his face, and although it reddened a bit, he was nodding. A thought-form appeared around him, the color of deep amber, the viscosity of honey. She’d never seen one quite so well formed before. Usually they were wispy things, transparent and smoky.