Sugar, Spice, and Shifters: A Touch of Holiday Magic

by Élianne Adams

  She couldn’t stay in panther form for long, though. That was all she needed, to have someone see a black panther running around loose.

  She shook her head to clear it.

  Isaac vanished from the window.

  Time to get the hell out of here.

  She walked for what felt like forever in her tranquilizer-laden state, then stopped and leaned against a tree.

  Fucking tranq. Fucking Isaac.

  That was a cheap stunt—hitting her with a tranq.

  She sank against the trunk, slowly lowering herself to the ground. Her eyes closed, heavy with drowsiness.

  He couldn’t follow her. She’d left no scent.

  Thank God for hunter’s block.

  She could rest here, just for a second, until the fuzziness vanished.

  — — —

  Isaac was in a state of shock. He was running on autopilot, going through the routine of hunting for the criminal but a part of him was somewhere else.

  Surely he hadn’t seen what he’d thought he was seeing. It couldn’t have been, but then again…

  No, that makes no damned sense at all.

  When the perp had turned her head just after the tranq had clipped her, her profile…

  No. It couldn’t be. A part of him refused to accept it, even though he knew what he’d seen.

  That was Cadence’s profile.

  He’d run to the window to look for her but she was long gone. The tranq hadn’t done a very good job.

  He took a deep breath and picked up the scent of her blood. The dart had nicked her enough to make her bleed and had left particles of her scent in the air.

  He breathed again, searching for what he knew would be there.

  There it is.

  He’d put scent on the cash. Nothing she’d have noticed. It was too subtle. But he’d made sure it was enough of a scent for him to follow.

  He headed down toward the thicket he knew she’d gone into. He didn’t have to witness it to know she’d shifted and slipped into the trees. He’d follow the scent of the money until he found her.

  He let out a deep breath.

  Then what?

  Yeah, then what? Tell the woman that he couldn’t imagine living without that she’d have to turn herself in?

  His bear growled.

  I know. I know she’s not the criminal type, but how do you reconcile that with what I just caught her doing?

  His bear snarled.

  Fine, we caught her doing. Hey. Don’t get pissed at me. And this fated mates thing, that’s your deal.

  Isaac knew he wasn’t fooling his bear. He’d fallen hard for the curvy brunette with the flashing dark eyes. Isaac made his way to the woods and began to tail her on foot through the trees. Soon enough the trees would lead to the park the property backed up to. Then it would lead to apartments. Then…

  What if she got into her car and went home? Then the only way to prove she was the culprit was to catch her with the goods he’d planted.

  At least he didn’t have to worry about getting those back into the evidence locker. He hadn’t borrowed them from the department. This time, he had another source.

  FOURTEEN

  A hit to her still-sensitive wrist ripped through Cade’s semi-conscious state. She jerked awake just in time to see a boot pulling back to nudge her again.

  The boot had come within inches of her arm when she grabbed it and yanked hard, pulling the person attached to it to the ground. He was young, barely out of his teens, wearing a denim jacket and jeans, with a beanie pulled over a mess of hair.

  She sprang up, her faculties mostly back, though she remained a little shaky.

  “What the fuck, bitch.” Another one, who could have been a brother to the one on the ground, approached her.

  “I don’t want trouble.” She stammered the words out, stumbling over the syllables.

  How long had she been out? It was still dark outside, without the slightest hint of daylight.

  I need to get the hell out of here before the cops show up and open this bag.

  She reached for her bag.

  It was gone.

  “Looking for this?” A third guy popped up, raising her backpack, tossing it to his left.

  “That’s mine.”

  “I don’t think so,” a fourth guy said, catching the backpack. He was heavier, older, and his face had a hardened look to it.

  Looks like he’s the boss.

  Being a shifter didn’t mean she could kick everyone’s ass when she was in human form.

  And shifting right now is out of the question.

  “What’s in here?”

  So they hadn’t opened it. She took a deep breath. “My medicine.”

  “Oh, medicine…” The older guy winked at his friends. “A little weed?”

  “No.” She reached for the bag.

  He pulled back, and she stepped closer. If she could get it, maybe she could make a run for it? She couldn’t take all four of them on, especially not the way she felt.

  Hands grabbed her arm from behind. Another pair grabbed her other arm.

  She tried to shake them off. “Let me go.” Her warning sounded more like a growl. Her panther was becoming furious. A shift would be inevitable if they didn’t leave her alone. She wouldn’t be able to control her feline from coming to her defense.

  That’s not exactly what I want, shifting into my panther while I’m surrounded by people.

  Not at all.

  She struggled against their grip on her arms.

  “Bitch, quit,” one of them hissed at her.

  “Let me go!”

  She heard a noise, one she knew all too well because Uncle Ramon used to have one: a switchblade being ejected from its housing.

  The leader had the deadly glinting object in his right hand.

  If she could kick him just right, if she could…

  Who was she kidding? She was outnumbered and still not 100 percent after that damned tranquilizer dart.

  Damn Isaac Romanoff.

  The leader tossed the backpack to the guy who’d thrown it to him and then flipped the switchblade from one hand to the other. “Give me what I want and you don’t have to die.”

  “You already have what you want. You took my backpack.”

  Thank God they haven’t opened it yet.

  Cade braced herself; she’d have to fight.

  “You know what I mean, puta.”

  “I don’t think you should be calling the lady names.”

  That voice.

  Isaac.

  Relief flooded Cade, except it was quickly replaced by fear—not a fear of the thugs as much as a fear that he knew who’d just robbed that house. He had to know. It couldn’t be an accident he was here.

  “Who you think you are?” the leader asked, indicating to the men holding Cade that they should approach Isaac.

  Isaac saving her from them would mean her ending up behind bars. Who was she supposed to root for? Him or them? And was there a chance she could make it out of this?

  Only if he’s dead.

  Her panther’s sentiments echoed inside her mind.

  Isaac’s steely gaze took the leader’s measure without forfeiting the attention he was giving the other two. When they rushed him, he sidestepped one and deftly delivered a kick that knocked the man to the ground on his side, several feet away.

  The second man glanced at the leader, as if he was second-guessing the wisdom of his decision to have them attack Isaac.

  Isaac didn’t wait; he stepped into the man’s space. The man raised his arms, fists ready and aimed for Isaac’s head. One swift move from Isaac took him out of harm’s way, his hand dropped, and quicker than the man’s eyes would have registered it, he delivered a kick to the man’s leg, sending him tumbling to the ground, groaning in agony.

  The third man dropped Cade’s backpack and picked up a branch as thick as his arm. He swung it, approaching Isaac.

  “You’re dead.” The leader’s voice was a low
hiss. He rushed toward Isaac.

  Cade sidestepped as if she were avoiding the husky leader, and as soon as his back was to her, she rushed forward, aiming her fists for his kidneys.

  At the same time she wondered what the hell she was thinking, getting involved in this and saving the man who was going to ruin her life.

  She pummeled the thug’s back with blows. The switchblade-wielding thug turned around, and before Cade could react, she felt the cold steel of his weapon sliding into her stomach.

  She gasped.

  Shock made her freeze.

  She clutched her stomach, to find blood pouring between her fingers.

  The sound that came out of her mouth was her panther’s voice.

  A low roar came from the left. A huge polar bear, white fur gleaming in the darkness, swatted the man in front of him out of the way with one swipe, and ripped into the leader with massive claws, severing arteries and leaving the man to bleed to death.

  — — —

  Isaac wanted to yell, to scream, but he could do none of that. He’d watched as the woman he loved jumped on the bastard’s back… and then the man had turned and shoved that switchblade deep into her belly.

  She was looking down at her stomach when he shifted, unable to contain the emotions that pushed him into that shift. His bear roared in pain. He struck the men quickly, killing one immediately and leaving the other to die slowly.

  He shifted back into his skin. “Jesus, Cade.”

  She swayed back, then toward him. He leaped forward and grabbed her just as her eyes rolled back in her head.

  “God. No.”

  Hope wilted in him; she couldn’t lose consciousness. Not now. She needed to shift into her panther so she could heal.

  “Fuck.”

  The backpack. It was evidence that would put her in jail.

  He swooped down and picked it up.

  Then he carried her toward the mansion they’d left not long ago.

  FIFTEEN

  Cade woke in her panther form. She knew this without even opening her eyes. She didn’t remember shifting. She tried to remember what she did last, but her memory was fuzzy and her head felt full of cotton.

  Her panther on full alert; she opened her eyes slowly. She was greeted by a mountain of white fur. She recognized immediately the fur belonged to Isaac, his scent permeated her senses, filling her lungs.

  Her eyes focused, studied her surroundings. Not her apartment, had to be his.

  She looked at him again. He was covered in blood.

  The recent events came crashing down around her head. Her thwarted escape. The thugs. The backpack. The attack. The stabbing.

  She leapt to her feet, shifted quickly and soundlessly, and scanned the room for her backpack.

  Her panther noticed a change in his heartbeat. Isaac was awake. Cade glanced down. He’d fixed her with a piercing stare, shifting while he rose to his feet.

  “You’re better.” He straightened his clothing, which had become askew, as clothing tended to, after a shift.

  “You saved my life.” She tried to feel appreciation, except she knew he’d saved her to put her in prison. May as well not have saved me.

  “You saved mine, too.” He opened the closet door, took out her backpack. “You could have lost yours saving me.”

  “It’s risky to fight in public, shifting could lead to witnesses.” She was babbling, she knew it but she didn’t want to talk about her backpack. She wanted to pretend not to see it, not to be the one he was hunting.

  “There were no witnesses. I made sure of that.” His face was grim.

  She knew that had to be difficult for him; he was a law enforcement officer, after all. “I’m sorry I put you in that position.”

  “I did what had to be done.”

  For me.

  And now he’d have to put her in prison.

  She’d go easily, without a struggle, without complicating his life anymore.

  “I understand. I’d like to make this as easy as possible. I don’t want my sisters to have to deal with any of the fallout.”

  “Will you tell me why you did these jobs?”

  She shook her head. What did it matter? Knowing why she did it wouldn’t keep him from doing his job.

  “It doesn’t matter.” She fiddled with her shirt, her fingers playing with the tear the blade had left in the fabric.

  “Maybe it matters to me.”

  “Your world is black and white. I don’t operate in a black and white world. I see varying degree of shades.”

  “Try me.”

  Something in his tone caught her attention. She glanced up. There was something in his gaze. She couldn’t peg the expression but something told her he’d changed. This was not the same man she’d argued with in the deli.

  She took a seat on the corner of the bed.

  An hour and what seemed like a bucket full of tears later, she’d told him all about Ignacio. How Ignacio’s stepfather had killed him. How she’d sought retribution by allowing her panther to kill the stepfather. How every penny she stole was purposed for building Ignacio’s Place.

  He was nodding. Somewhere during the telling, he’d sat next to her, and now his arm was around her, offering her solace.

  “You’re amazing,” he said.

  “But I still belong in jail,” she finished the thought for him.

  “I didn’t say that. I didn’t say that at all.”

  “What’s different? Where’s the black and white guy I used to know?”

  “Let’s say he’s seen the other side.”

  She nodded, encouraging him to keep talking.

  He continued, “Maybe there should be special circumstances…”

  “Do tell.”

  “You’ll have to return the stuff you stole.”

  It felt like the air had been crushed out of her like a can of soda.

  “I can’t.” How could he say that? “After everything I told you, do you really think I can stop the project?”

  “No one said anything about you stopping the project.”

  “It takes funding. I can help with that.”

  Her laugh was humorless. “Police officers don’t make a lot of money.”

  “True. But there’s my trust fund.”

  Was he being funny? Because this wasn’t much of a joking matter for her. “I’m not amused.”

  “Seriously. You’ve seen my uncle’s place. I know you realize they aren’t hurting. My dad was Mikhail’s brother. When my father and my mother…” He shook his head. “Let’s just say there’s a trust fund with a good amount of money in it. Enough to replenish what you’ve stolen and still fulfill your dreams for Ignacio’s Place. It’s just sitting there, earning interest. I never touch it. None of us do.”

  She sat back, tucked her knees beneath her chin and hugged her shins, staring at him. “You’d do that?”

  “I would.”

  She raised a brow. “No strings?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  She jumped to a stand, fuming. “I knew it. What’s it going to be? Jail time?”

  “You spend Christmas Eve with me.”

  “We’re already going to your aunt’s on Christmas day at eleven.”

  “Yeah, but that’s not what I want. I want Christmas Eve.”

  “That’s it? That’s tomorrow.”

  “Give the money back. Give me Christmas Eve. I’ll fund Ignacio’s Place.”

  “And arresting me?”

  He took a deep breath. His chest expanded, so wide, so very sexy, even in a rumpled shirt. Beneath the fabric were abs, flexed and rippled. Cadence turned away, because if she kept looking at him, she’d forget he was the enemy. An enemy who meant way too much to her.

  SIXTEEN

  Isaac was conflicted, Cadence asked about arresting her, and he hadn’t answered. All he’d given her was “I’ll pick you up at five.”

  He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t arrest the woman he loved, the panther his bear called mate.
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  He’d gone to visit Uncle Mikhail, laid out the barest of facts. Told his uncle he was in love with a woman who’d done the wrong thing for all the right reason.

  Aunt Miriam had stepped into Mikhail’s study, and found the two of them deep in conversation, then slipped out.

  “You’re like a son to me,” Uncle Mikhail had said.

  “And you like a father to all of us.”

  Mikhail tapped on the dark wood desk top in his office.

  “What does your bear say?”

  Isaac toyed with a paperweight on his uncle’s desk.

  “You didn’t give the bear a voice? Look, Isaac, I’ve never counseled you on how you treat your bear. I know it hasn’t been an easy time for you and you’ve clashed over the years, but your bear is a part of you. You should let the bear have a say.”

  My bear wants her. My bear calls her his mate already.

  Ky didn’t need to ask the bear, the bear would tell him to forget everything, to cast aside his ethics.

  “My bear’s advice is tainted.”

  Mikhail’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t think you meant that the way it sounded.”

  “My bear’s opinion is jaded. Is that better?”

  In Isaac’s mind, his bear growled.

  “What does your heart say?”

  “That’s where things get tricky. My heart agrees with my bear.”

  The doorbell rang.

  “I think you need to sort this out on your own.” Mikhail stood and walked toward the office door. “I’ll get the door.”

  So basically I have the same dilemma I had when I walked in.

  His bear snarled.

  He had to pick up Cadence, and he needed to figure out what he would do.

  He stepped out of his uncle’s office and almost ran into Laken.

  “Hey.” He looked around. “Where’s Ky?”

  “He’s at home.”

  She looked so much like Cadence it made his heart ache to think of what was expected of him.

  She leaned against the door, her face pale.

  “Are you okay?” Isaac took her by the arm, leading her toward a chair. Her limp, normally barely noticeable, was pronounced.