ROMANCE: Time of the Werebears (Scottish Historical Time Travel Shifter Romance) (Paranormal Shapeshifter Romance)

by Sky Winters

  “What does all of this mean?” Isabelle was searching Edmund’s face for answers. She didn’t want to hear any more stories. She wanted to leave.

  “It means that tomorrow you will stay in the house and do nothing.” Edmund flashed his eyes at Isabelle and she fell into a deep sleep. She dreamed of running away with Edmund and travelling through the continent. Her mind felt a pull toward the east. The lovers were riding on the Oriental Express through the Carpathian Mountains. They were laughing and happy.

  “Wake up,” It was Kitty. She was sitting on Isabelle’s bed in one of her favorite dresses. For a second Isabelle felt like maybe everything was just a dream. Maybe Kitty was here to take Isabelle to Colonel Raglan’s ball. Edmund would be there and nothing weird would happen, because everything that had happened was a bad dream, and yet, it was also a terrific dream in some respects. “They did it,” Kitty cried.

  “They did what?” Isabelle froze with fear right after she got the words out. She knew exactly what Kitty meant.

  “They are burying him today,” the two friends hugged. Isabelle looked out at the morning sky and realized that she had been asleep for a day and a half. She got dressed quickly and arm in arm the friends left for the cemetery.

  It was a simple pine box. The coffin was being lowered by six men when the girls arrived at the top of the hill. They walked slowly up to the grave and cried in each other’s arms. As they watched the box drop, Isabelle started to think about the story that Edmund had told her. Why had that been so important to him? She wondered as she felt Kitty stroking her hair.

  The undertakers had filled in the hole before Isabelle could find the strength to walk away. “Were you there for him at least?” Isabelle asked her friend as they walked from the sight.

  “My father wouldn’t let me miss it,” Kitty said, “Edmund was very brave. I guess being a soldier he wasn’t afraid of death. It really seemed to make father angry. His last words were an apology for almost killing Victor and accosting you, and then he forgave the crowd.” Kitty was trying to smile as she told the story. Isabelle took no comfort in Edmund dying a good death. Either way he was dead.

  Kitty could see that Isabelle was still very sad, “His neck snapped on the fall, Edmund was dead instantly.” Kitty was really trying and Isabelle kissed her friend on the cheek. She wanted her to know that she was as okay as she could be, but mostly she wanted her to stop talking about Edmund’s death.

  “The townspeople were really upset.” Kitty let out a little laugh. Isabelle seemed shocked, “They wanted to raid his carriage, but it was already gone. I kind of wanted to raid it too.” Isabelle gave Kitty an exasperated huff. “I just wanted to know if Napoleon was in there after all.” Isabelle squeezed her friend’s arm as they walked on. She was glad to have Kitty in her life.

  “Have they set a date for my wedding yet?” Isabelle asked as they left the cemetery. The thought of marrying Colonel Raglan seemed both hilarious and repulsive to Isabelle.

  “No, but my date is set,” Kitty offered as a devilish smile crept across her lips. Isabelle turned her friend right around to see her face.

  “What do you mean?” Isabelle didn’t even wait for the answer, “Who do you mean?”

  “May 24th and Reginald,” Kitty was beaming, but Isabelle felt very much in the dark.

  “You don’t like Reginald,” Isabelle reminded her friend, “You can’t be excited to marry someone you don’t like.” Isabelle knew that Kitty was at times in love with the idea of love. Isabelle didn’t want to see anyone marry for the wrong reasons.

  “It turns out I do,” Kitty’s answer enraged Isabelle.

  “No you don’t! Is this your father’s doing?” Isabelle was incensed. She was enraged. She was thinking of her friend, but also her own situation. She was never going to marry the colonel and now with Edmund dead she felt sure that she would never marry anyone.

  “It wasn’t my father,” Kitty was starting to blush. “He kissed me.”

  “Reginald?” Isabelle asked as if she didn’t already know.

  “He has been wasting all this time trying to talk to me,” Kitty laughed. “When I walked the girls into the kitchen so you and Edmund could be alone Reginald walked in and didn’t say a word. He took me by the back of the neck and kissed me.” Kitty had grabbed Isabelle by the back of the neck and pulled their foreheads together. “I felt as if I was floating. I don’t know what made him act do boldly? But it was absolutely perfect.”

  “That’s amazing…” Isabelle stopped as something caught her eye moving at the top of the hill. She thought that she saw something, but it had disappeared. Kitty turned to follow Isabelle’s eyes. “Sorry, I thought I saw…something. I am so happy for you.” They continued to walk down the street, but Isabelle continued to turn back, hoping to see the black carriage on the hill again.

  It took a lot of convincing, but Isabelle finally got Kitty to go home. The Bernard house was not a receptive atmosphere for company at the moment. Everyone was locked up in their respective rooms. As Isabelle walked to her room she heard her father’s door creak open. “Did you go visit his grave?” He asked.

  “No,” Isabelle lied. “I was having lunch with Kitty.” She couldn’t bear to have her father talk to her like he had the other night. It had been the first time and Isabelle hoped the last. She knew that she would be long gone before her father would have a chance to marry her off to Colonel Raglan.

  Isabelle wanted to pack a bag, but she thought that would be too suspicious. If anyone happened to talk to her it would be hard to explain. She sat in her room trying to read, then trying to sow. Isabelle was terrible at needle point, she only ever did it to take her mind off of matters that bothered her. She stabbed herself so often that it was hard to think about anything else. However, today it wasn’t working.

  The Bernard Dinner hall was as silent as a tomb. The only sound was the slurping of soup. No one would make eye contact. Isabelle asked to be excused. Her father only lifted his hand to wave her away. Isabelle laid in her bed and waited for darkness to arrive. She watched as the shadows crossed the room and the moon started its ascent into the sky.

  It was a trick she hadn’t used since she was a child. Isabelle had loved climbing. When her mother was alive, Isabelle was allowed to wear pants. A person can climb in pants. When her mother died and she was forced to become a proper lady and wear dresses all the time, Isabelle’s love of climbing ended. She felt liberated as she took the trellis down from her window. The rose bush tore her dress, but Isabelle didn’t care. She was off to find her Edmund.

  Isabelle stopped in the garden shed and grabbed a shovel. She had decided that he couldn’t be dead, or at very least, she had decided that she had to see him dead for herself. Isabelle couldn’t say what it was, but something was telling her that Edmund was fine, she only had to go to him. Isabelle was dancing on air as she walked through the town and it wasn’t long before she reached the low stone fence that encircled the cemetery.

  “Who goes there?” It was one of the night watchmen. Isabelle turned abruptly and threw her shovel over the fence at the same time. The watchman was holding a lantern, but he didn’t seem to notice the shovel. “Oh, Miss Bernard, I didn’t recognize you.”

  Isabelle felt bad, because she didn’t recognize this man at all. Her father was on the Parish council and fairly well known in town. Everyone seemed to know who Isabelle was, and it made her feel snobby to not know them back. Kitty knew a few of the night watchmen, but that was because she had spent so much time being delivered back to her father. This was really the first time in her life that Isabelle had been defiant.

  “What are you doing out so late?” The watchman’s tone had changed, but his question remained. He had to speak more politely to a highborn lady, but he was still obligated to return her to her father’s home if he saw her out late at night.

  “I came to say good bye to my lover,” Isabelle knew that everything she said to the watchman would run through the town in a
matter of hours. “My father caught me with Edmund Bellemorale and that is why he was put to death. Please, you have to let me say good bye to the only man I ever loved.”

  Isabelle was surprised by how much pleasure the whole exchange was giving her. She was not completely lying, she was getting what she wanted and bringing shame to the family that tried to offer her to a filthy old man. The watchman seemed touched by her story. Isabelle thought she saw a tear welling up in the man’s eye. He stepped aside and let her pass.

  Isabelle hopped the fence and found her shovel. She ran up the hill and found the loose dirt of the freshly covered grave. The shovel was singing as she repeatedly drove it into the dirt. She was going fast, but soon tired and fell to the ground. Why am I doing this? She asked herself as she lay down crying in the dirt.

  “Should I dig for a while?” It was Edmund. He was standing over her almost shining in the sun. He no longer looked grey and the mark from the cane was gone. Isabelle was frozen in place for a moment as she tried to process the sight of the hanged man standing before her.

  “You’re alive!” She shouted and hugged him, but then fear ran down her spine and she backed away. “So you’re…you are…are a,” Isabelle couldn’t find the words.

  “I am a vampire,” Edmund said. “I was turned and I tried to stay on Saint Helene with my master, but I could not.” Edmund grabbed Isabelle’s quivering hand. “I have loved you since we were kids playing in the woods. I thought of you every day while I was away.” Edmund took a deep breath, “If there was a way for me to leave here without you I would, but I cannot be away from you for another minute.”

  Isabelle looked into his eyes. She could feel the truth of his words and she knew the truth of her own feelings. “Make me a vampire,” She almost whispered. It had been shocking to see him alive, and yet Isabelle had known since the ball that something was different about her childhood friend. AS he stood there before her professing his love she realized that she wanted nothing more than to be with Edmund. She was willing to go through anything.

  “Are you sure?” Edmund asked.

  “You are asking a woman knee deep in your grave if she is serious?” Edmund got into the hole and kissed Isabelle deeply.

  “I love you,” was all that Edmund said as he grabbed the shovel and lifted Isabelle with one hand out of the grave. Edmund dug the grave down three feet and started padding down the loose dirt at the bottom. The black carriage was pulling up as Edmund cast the shovel aside. He pulled Isabelle down into his arms and laid her down in the grave. Edmund kissed Isabelle deeply as they lay entwined in each other’s arms. As he broke away from the kiss he bared his fangs and dug deeply into Isabelle’s neck.

  The lifeless eyes of the coach driver were the only eyes upon them. Isabelle could feel dirt falling on her legs and body. In a few minutes she was buried completely. She was not scared. She could not even feel it. She couldn’t tell where her body was at that moment. It was like being in a cocoon. She could feel the changes coming over her.

  Isabelle felt the warm blood that coursed through her veins only moments before stop. Her body was hardening. She felt like stone. There was pain, Isabelle wanted to scream out, but there was no way to open her mouth. She was not in control. She could hear Edmund trying to calm her down inside her own mind.

  “You let a young woman into a grave yard by herself?” It was her father’s voice. It sounded miles away. “You are taking your job title too literally, you do not only have to watch! You also need to take action!” Sir Thomas Bernard was organizing a manhunt for his daughter. He clearly wanted to get her back.

  Clearly a great deal of time had passed, and yet, to Isabelle it felt like only a few minutes. She heard her father yelling at the watchman. When the other’s had cleared away she heard her father offer Lysa to the old colonel. It made Isabelle feel horrible to be traded away so easily.

  “Ah yes, I do enjoy a younger bride,” Raglan’s drool could be heard in his tone. It was disgusting to think about the old man touching one of her sisters, but Isabelle laughed when she thought about that match. Lysa is going to eat him alive. Lysa was money hungry. Isabelle hated to think badly of her sister, but he knew that Lysa cared more for things than for love. She will likely be happy about it, Isabelle thought.

  The noises, which had seemed hundreds of miles away to begin with, faded away and after what seemed like a minute a surge of power rose through Isabelle. Edmund started moving and his new vampire followed him through the dirt. Edmund was brown and his clothes covered in dirt. Isabelle didn’t even want to know what she looked like. The couple stood in the open grave and drank in the moonlight as they waited for the carriage to arrive.

  Isabelle threw her arms around Edmund. She had never been a girl to sit around thinking about happily ever after, but in her heart she knew that she had found hers.

  THE END

  BITTEN BY THE BILLIONAIRE

  Lucinda Waters stumbled over the top step to her apartment building’s lobby door and went down hard on one knee, barely saving herself from falling flat. Her legs, numb from exhaustion, had given out just a little too soon. The tall, curvy brunette sighed, gritting her teeth, knowing passers-by would be staring and she’d better just force herself up and move on quickly. New York City’s Upper West Side in a nutshell: age, elegance, beauty, and indifference to suffering. And so she pulled herself up on the railing, got her wobbly legs under her, and shoved herself forward through the door.

  Her apartment lobby glowed under its antique chandeliers, the mosaic floor and Gilded Age trappings of mirrors and brass shimmering at her with the promise of better things. Right now, fresh from another stage audition after two shifts starting at 6am, the beauty brought tears to her pale blue eyes that weren’t exactly of joy. Defeated, she limped for the tiny, narrow elevator, thinking to herself well, I made it home without breaking down, at least.

  The apartment was an old rooming house for young ladies, very dormitory-like, with tiny rooms, a bathroom at each end of the hall and a kitchen down on the first floor. She found it like living in a filing cabinet, despite the prettiness of it all, but after a twelve hour day the glorified closet with its narrow bed, chair, desk and bureau were a welcome sight. She stripped out of her audition dress, trashed her ruined pantyhose, got a shower down the hall and then just sat in her nightshirt and shorts out on the fire escape, staring out over the city. The Big Apple, city of promise, where people with dreams of Broadway made their start….

  ...as long as they were skinny and hot enough.

  A sob caught in Lucinda’s throat. The audition had gone as they always did. She had sung every note of the score perfectly, with passion, precision and the right mix of emotions for the scene. She had acted rings around others on the stage. Her voice had compelled passers-by in the hall to stop, looking in the doors to see who it was. But who was it? No one they knew, and built more like a Wagnerian Valkyrie than anyone who should be performing in a Broadway musical. She could perform everything about the part perfectly, but she couldn’t turn herself into the size-two diva that these people always seemed to want center stage.

  There had been comments afterward, meant to be supportive but as always, they came with barbs that the advice-givers probably hadn’t even meant. She really did have a good voice, but there weren’t very many roles for women of her body type.

  “I hate you people,” she mumbled, tears rolling down her cheeks. It was all so petty, so shallow, so hateful. She knew she had both the talent and the skill, she knew she was hardworking enough, that she could do everything asked of her for these roles except be thin. But that one thing, it kept her back.

  Two years ago Lucinda had realized that all the dieting in the world would not drag her down below a size sixteen without making her incredibly sick. She had eased off, focusing on regular exercise instead, and simply tried to learn to love her body as it was. She did all right, her confidence improving month by month, but times like these, she found herself torn between
loathing her body and loathing people who wouldn’t accept her because of it. So here she was, sobbing on a fire escape instead of celebrating finally getting her big break. There were thousands like her in this city, and most of them couldn’t even sing, but had more of a chance because they looked the part. Crazy, stupid, fickle...and there was nothing she could do about it.

  She had struggled ever since arriving in the city four years ago at age eighteen, fresh off the bus and ready to fight for what she wanted. Now she worked three crappy service jobs to pay for the rooming house, food and transportation...and now and again maybe a new pair of pantyhose. She even worked here to cover some of her rent, polishing brass and glass and sweeping the mosaic floors while she sang to keep herself company. But in the end she had just been treading water for four years, with nothing to show for it; no savings, no billings, no closer to her goals. And she knew that tomorrow, she’d pick herself back up and plan to try again, somehow, in some way. But right now, she was just too tired, and she let the tears fall.

  A tap on the door startled her. She grabbed her short, fake-silk white kimono off the chair and threw it on as she padded over and looked through the spy-hole. The tall, lean figure beyond lounged idly against the wall, sleek in a tailored black leather skirt suit, her straight jet-black hair gleaming across her shoulders. Lucinda opened the door, feeling a little tug of apprehension. What did her landlord want? “Hi, can I help you?”

  “Hullo dear.” The landlord—Claudia smiled at her, and Lucinda wiped her cheeks self-consciously. “Actually I was thinking I could help you.” Her gray eyes twinkled, and her lips quirked. Lucinda blinked at her, and then stepped aside as Claudia breezed in and opened the door. She leaned against the back of it, tenting her fingers. “A relative of mine is holding a singing contest at his next party, this weekend. I thought perhaps that you’d like a go. I could get you in, supply you with a dress and a ride, all that sort of thing.”