by Ellis Leigh
“She looks like Snow White!”
All that apologizing and explaining would have to wait, though. Today was the story hour at the library, and I would soon be dressed in my bright-red skirt with my hair in waves, looking like a fairy-tale princess ready to meet the youngest Kinship Cove residents. Apparently just the hair and makeup met the requirement when I was standing behind the circulation desk.
“Good morning, children,” I said, keeping my voice soft and waving as they passed me. As soon as they had disappeared around the corner, I grabbed the bag with my outfit in it from under the counter and hurried to one of the study rooms to change. I didn’t make it without running into the two librarians in the house—Matthew and Brittani.
“Hey, Arabella,” Matthew said, greeting me with a smile. “Thanks so much for helping out today.”
“It’s no problem.” I clutched the bag a little tighter. “There are children arriving already.”
“And I’m here.” Margaret—Matthew’s bobcat shifter mate—came racing around the corner, a huge smile on her face. “Hi, babe.”
“Hi, darling,” Brittani said, rolling her eyes as Margaret and Matthew embraced. “You two are worse than Griff and me.”
“No one is worse than Griff and you. Where is the big lug, anyway?”
“He should be here soon.”
All the couples, the vibe of the mated ones, tugged at me. Made my stomach sink a little more. I missed Mateo. A lot. And there was nothing more that I wanted to do than to see his face. To talk to him. To snuggle into his arms and feel safe once more.
Just an hour. I could give the library one more hour of my time, then be free to find my mate.
“Well, I should get dressed.” I nodded to the collected group. “Good to see you, Margaret.”
All three of them froze, staring at me as if I’d said something wrong. It took me a solid five seconds to realize I had called the woman by her name instead of Bob. I never used her name. My brain had apparently been broken by this separation from my mate. It needed to end.
Before they could start asking me what was wrong, I hightailed it across the rest of the library to the back study rooms, shutting myself inside one with a sigh.
“Mateo,” I whispered, wishing he could hear me. That he could be there to help calm me down. I grabbed my phone from my bag and held it, clutched it to my chest. I hadn’t texted Mateo but once since the hotel. That message had been short and to the point—an ending to his constant messaging. I need time to process things. He’d stopped reaching out after that, giving me my time. The time I now regretted.
“You’re an idiot, Arabella Snow.”
I swiped my phone to life and tapped into my messaging app. Just one note. Just a few words to give myself the illusion that we were still okay.
I miss you.
I bit my lip before hitting send, thinking about erasing it. Thankfully, the grown-up part of me took over and tapped that little send icon before I could erase those three words. She also tucked that phone back into our bag and yanked out my dress for the day. The red dress my mother had made for me. The one that many people saw as me trying to be Snow White even though that princess had never worn red. The one based on something so much worse than a hunted princess.
I donned the red skirt, swaying as I had since I’d been a child and had worn the first of many wide red skirts with dark edges. Skirts that flared when I spun and danced. Skirts that my mother made specifically to remind everyone that we were the Gunness family, descendants of the Lonely Hearts Killer. Children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren of a woman who had escaped prosecution through fire.
Red for blood, darkened edges for the fire that had set Bella free when she’d faked her own death.
The skirt really had no place around children, but they’d never seen the negativity of it. They only saw a pretty dress on a woman who looked a lot like Snow White, and so my princess persona had been born. Bringing good to something so negative.
But I really needed to burn the skirt at some point and have something more appropriate made if I was going to keep being involved with little kids.
“Deep breath. It’s princess time.” I closed my eyes and thought about happy things. About my birds at home and the plants that made my space so lush, about the feel of a light drizzle on my face. About the man who had stolen my heart and wrecked my body for even the thought of anyone else. I thought about how much I loved my mate and how I knew he would be there for me now that I was ready to talk to him. I owed him an apology, but I knew he’d show up. We had our happily ever after to get to, after all. “Let’s do this.”
I walked out of the study room, leaving my bag, my phone, and my other clothes inside, and headed straight for the children’s area of the library. I had my smile on, my hands soft, and my pace slow. I worked my hips with every step to make sure my skirt danced around my ankles the way it had been intended to. I was ready to be princess Snow White.
At least until I actually made it to the children’s section.
I froze as I entered the open space, hearing the children yell and chatter from their spots on the rug but not truly seeing them. My eyes were locked on the woman across the room. The one glaring at me from the stacks. My mother.
My entire body went ice-cold, my inner cat yowling and scratching to come out so we could escape. So we could hide in her smaller form. I knew better than to shift, though. My mother was also a Siamese cat shifter, and she’d always been faster than I had been. If I shifted and ran, she would likely overtake me. And that was not something these children needed to see.
The children.
“Good morning, young ones,” I said, pasting on my brightest smile and doing my best to keep my voice calm even as I fell apart inside. “I heard there might be some storytelling today. Is that right?”
A gaggle of small voices chorused a yes, and I nodded.
“Do you mind if I join you? I do love a good tale.”
There was a rash of giggles, and a group of little girls began to move and wave me over. Inviting me into their circle. One brave little girl stood right up amid her friends.
“You can sit with us, Snow White.”
I sent her a warm smile and took a grand total of two steps in her direction when my mother decided to do what she did best. Ruin things.
“You idiot children. That woman shouldn’t be called Snow White. She should be known as Snow Red, the beautiful daughter bathed in the blood of her great-grandmother’s suitors.”
I froze, raising my eyes to meet hers. The entire room went silent and still, parents looking worriedly from her to me, children staring with wide eyes and open mouths. My mother began to move around the edge of the circle, stalking me. Hunting me. I mimicked her movements, trying to keep her across from me. Wishing the children would somehow disappear so they wouldn’t be caught in the middle of whatever was about to happen. As I came around the side of the circle that left me facing the entrance to the children’s section, I spotted my coworkers. I took one second to focus on Brittani, standing off toward the back of the room, looking confused. Griff, her mate, appeared beside her, his sharp eyes capturing every detail, it seemed. I really wished they would step in, somehow convince the parents to leave. Immediately.
But as my mother basically leaped across the circle of youth and raced right up into my face, I knew that wasn’t about to happen. They were out of time.
“Arabella,” she said, my name sounding oddly like a threat. “You have been a hard one to find.”
“Perhaps I didn’t want to be found, Mother.”
I caught Matthew waving the children from the circle and guiding them to the front of the library, so I planted my feet, making sure my mother’s view didn’t reveal that. The woman liked an audience for her torture of me. Hopefully, she wouldn’t get one.
“Hiring that private investigator was probably my most brilliant idea ever. You know him, right?” She shifted her weight back a little, a cruel smile spread
ing across her harsh face. “Mateo. I saw you with him the other day. You two looked…cozy.”
I held my ground, keeping my head up. “Perhaps you should have said hello then.”
Her smile grew. “Oh, dear Arabella. There weren’t enough people to put on a show then. Or have you forgotten how much I like to make sure everyone knows what a disappointment you are?”
I shot a glance over her shoulder, making sure Matthew had done his job before letting my own smile loose.
“Looks like you failed at that this time.”
My mother spun, her mouth falling open as she took in a mostly empty room. I had a moment of pure joy at my victory over her before she spun back around and a deep fear took over. She looked madder than I’d ever seen her, and that was saying something.
“You little bitch. You don’t deserve to be able to hide from the truth. All these years, I’ve built on the legacy your great-grandmother started, and you throw it away.”
“I don’t want to be part of a legacy that honors a murderer.”
“She was a determined woman with—”
“She was nothing but a killer who wasn’t smart enough not to get caught,” I said, raising my voice to talk over her. Not caring about the respect she normally demanded. I was done being the quiet daughter.
My mother froze, obviously stunned to have been yelled at. That didn’t last nearly long enough, though. Not even enough seconds for me to take a step back, which was my mistake. One second, my mother stood still and staring. In the next, she was in motion. Swinging hard as she growled in her cat’s rumble. As she put all her weight into her slap. Her hand landed solidly on my cheek, sending my face sideways, but it wasn’t the weight of her hit that hurt. It was the sharp sear of her claws cutting into my flesh.
I wobbled back a step, regaining my footing and bringing my fingers to my cheek. When I pulled them away, they were covered in blood. Red liquid that stained my blouse and fell to the floor, dripping at my feet. I was bleeding right there in the library.
And that was pretty much when all hell broke loose.
10
Mateo
Kinship Cove was too small, too cute and quaint, to have been prepared for a bull shifter on a mission. I raced through the streets, passing cars in oncoming lanes and running every stop sign and red light I could. I’d spent all afternoon acquiring information about Arabella’s mother, the last bit having sent me on this breakneck trek back across town. The woman’s cell phone had been pinging against a tower just outside Kinship Cove. For two days.
She’d been stalking Arabella for two solid days, and I hadn’t known about it.
I whipped around a corner, tires squealing, and stormed toward the library. “Fucking photo.”
Because that had to be what had set the old woman off. She’d seen it—the local reporter had put up a story about the Kinship Cove farmers market and had included the picture he’d taken of the moment Arabella and I had met. That picture had hit the AP wires. She must have seen it somehow. Maybe she checked anything that had the name Arabella in it. Maybe she had just happened across it. I couldn’t be sure, but the details didn’t matter. She was here, and Arabella was not with me.
“Don’t let me down, Griff.” Two minutes. I would be at the library in two minutes. Griff was there—a cop with a solid history and knowledge of Arabella’s past. I’d filled him in before I’d left the library parking lot. I wouldn’t have left her at all, but that phone record had been difficult to get. And costly. I’d needed to move some money around to buy access to it. I’d put my trust in the cop to keep Arabella safe while I was gone, and that had paid off. I’d gotten a text just as I’d looked over the start of the report and seen where she’d been, seen how badly I’d messed up.
Trouble in the library.
I’d known it was Arabella’s mother immediately. It’d had to be. I’d rushed out of the diner, where I’d made the handoff, and jumped in my car immediately. Griff was good—a solid cop—but his attention would be focused more on keeping his own mate safe since she was likely also in the building. I couldn’t blame him, but that meant my girl needed me. Right then.
I screamed to a stop on the sidewalk in front of the library and jumped from my car. Parents with crying children in their arms rushed past me, all looking slightly terrified. I ran faster, absolutely praying to every aspect of fate I’d ever been taught about to let my girl be safe. I would take care of her—just give me the seconds I needed to get there.
It was as I slid through the turn from the entrance hall into the children’s library area that I saw it. My mate stood tall and proud, her head up and that luscious black hair cascading down her back. An older woman, one who looked remarkably like my Arabella, stood before her. The two seemed to be speaking calmly even if their postures were filled with anger, and for just a split second, I thought maybe I’d overreacted. But then the old lady raised her hand and slapped my mate across the face. It wasn’t the hit itself that enraged my inner beast or the way the red skirt flared when Arabella spun from the blow. My bull wasn’t happy but had control of his temper in that moment. It was when he spotted the blood dripping down our mate’s cheek that he lost his ever-loving mind. One second, I was fully human and in control. The next…
Well…
Don’t mess with the bull—you’ll get the horns.
Every ounce of control I’d spent my life building snapped in that instant. The tattered shreds of the clothing I’d been wearing went flying as my bull exploded from my body, and the deep, threatening roar issuing from his chest nearly shook the world around us. Both women turned to stare at us, one looking terrified and the other relieved. That’s right, princess. I’m here.
I paced forward, not running, keeping my head low and my horns forward. Watching Arabella’s mother retreat. That was a smart move on her part. Not smart enough, obviously, but something. That put space between her and my mate.
“She’s all yours, Mateo.” Griff nodded my way even as he pulled his mate Brittani away from the action. I caught Matthew the librarian and his mate Margaret also heading away from the scene of what was about to be a crime. Good. No one needed to see me lose my cool.
I marched forward, whipping my head back and forth. Making sure old Lucy saw the horns that were coming for her. She saw them, all right. She also apparently had no idea how enraged a bull could become.
“Stop that right now,” she said, sounding far more sure of herself than I thought she should be. I huffed and took two more steps forward as she retreated one. “Arabella. Tell your friend to stop this insanity. I am your mother.”
I paused for a moment, one leg in the air, and gave Arabella a look. She stared right back at me, slowly slipping deeper into the stacks. Trying to escape. With blood dripping down her cheek and a stained blouse, she looked oddly at peace. Fierce but accepting. Done with this.
“No, Mother. I will not.” And then she gave me a single nod.
My attention immediately shifted back to Lucy. I huffed and snorted, pawing at the floor with my head down and my horns up. My mate had given me the okay.
Game on.
11
Arabella
The phrase “bull in a china shop” had obviously been coined by someone who had never seen a bull in a library.
“Arabella!” my mother screeched before shifting to her cat form right as Mateo charged for her. She ran into the stacks, giving Mateo something to chase after. And chase he did. Those wooden cases were no match for my big, strong bull shifter mate. They exploded as he slammed his way through them, my mother racing across the tops and jumping from shelf to shelf just a few feet in front of him in her efforts to escape his wrath. The books were not so agile and spry—they flew through the air, becoming projectiles and landing just like bombs in the battle between the cat and the bull. The one I really wanted Mateo to win.
The two disappeared into the back of the library, the sounds of their chase continuing. The crashing, the booming, the bull r
oars. At least until a weird sort of stillness fell over the space. A quiet I hadn’t been prepared for. I listened hard, even leaning toward where the two had rushed off to, wanting so badly to know what was going on but too afraid to risk walking back there. At least, not until I heard what sounded like the groan of a frustrated animal. Or maybe an injured one.
“Mateo.” I shifted immediately, letting my clothes fall to the floor and taking to my cat form before running for my mate. I had no idea if he’d be able to tell the two of us apart—my mother and I looked alike in all forms—but I had to get to him. Had to make sure he was okay. I couldn’t be bothered by the fact that my mother and I had the same fur color with the same points.
I slid around a corner and came face-to-face with my mate. He had books impaled on his horns, the paper and cardboard no match for their sharp ends but weighing down his head. He struggled with the load, shifting his head back and forth, obviously trying to dislodge the books. I crept closer, knowing I could help if I could just get close enough. If I could just—
There was no disguising the moment he saw me. His enraged huff and bellow had me cowering, and the way he shook his head made me want to run. But I couldn’t—my mate needed help. I just had to make sure he figured out the cat coming toward him was me and not my mother. If I could slip close enough, he should have been able to sniff me, but that wasn’t possible. Not without endangering myself. I had to do this the hard way.
I stopped in the middle of the aisle, took a seat, and I mewled at him. Sat down right there and stared at him as I called to him again, adding in a purr at the end. He’d met me in my cat form. He’d heard me purr. Hopefully Mateo still had enough control over his bull to make sense of the show I was putting on for him.
My mate was a good man even as a bull. He visibly calmed when I sat down, huffing and sniffing deeper even from down the aisle. He ended up approaching slowly, calmly, his big snout breathing me in with every step. He stopped right before me, towering over me and scenting me. I looked up into his deep brown eyes and did the riskiest thing I’d thought of since running away from home. I lifted a paw and placed it on his wet snout, meowing softly to him. When he made a sound almost like a moan, I took another chance and head-butted him. He breathed out what sounded like a sigh of relief as I began to purr.