Werebear's Nanny_A Paranormal Romance

by T. S. Ryder

  His shoulders were low, hunched forward, and Andre hardly seemed to be looking at the road as he drove. He nodded once and was silent.

  When they got back to the cabin, they sat in the truck, just being with each other. Mary didn't want to leave alone. She wanted to let him know she was there for him. She wanted to tell him that she loved him, but after all this, he'd think she was trying to replace his wife and daughter. How could they ever be replaced? So she just sat holding his hand.

  "I need to feed the animals." Andre straightened himself.

  "I'll come with you," Mary said.

  "You don't have to."

  "I want to."

  She twined her hand in his as they headed for the barn, noting with alarm how cold he was to the touch. His skin was usually so warm, hot even, that this drop in temperature alarmed her greatly. She rubbed his fingers between her hands and brought them to her mouth to blow on them.

  A voice suddenly ran out, harsh and cutting in the silence. "Let her go!"

  "Peter!" Mary's head whipped up, her breath catching in her throat.

  Her brother stood in the door to the barn, a heavy hunting rifle aimed at Andre's heart. Mary stared, eyes wide. Peter's green eyes were locked on Andre, ignoring Mary entirely. His black hair was singed short, a sign of mourning, and the gun in his hands did not waver.

  "Peter," Mary started again.

  "Get away from him, Mary, now! Run!"

  Andre growled low in his throat, eyes darkening. Every inch of his body was rigid. He was going to transform, and Mary knew she was going to watch the brother she loved most kill her soulmate. Even a Bear wouldn't stand a chance against a bullet! Another growl, and Mary jumped in front of Andre.

  "No!"

  Peter's eyes widened, and Andre stiffened. Mary turned her back to her brother and put her hands on her lover's chest, staring at him in the eye.

  "Andre, no. Please, we can talk about this." She turned to her brother, who still had the gun aimed. His expression was uncertain and alarmed. "Peter, put the gun down."

  "Mary, what are you doing?"

  "I lost control of the car, and Andre found me," she said in a rush. "He brought me back here and took care of me."

  Peter's grip on the gun tightened. "Kidnapped you, you mean!"

  Mary shook her head. Her mouth was dry, and she didn't know how she was going to admit this to her brother. But if she didn't, then he would kill Andre for sure, and she could never let that happen. She took a step towards him, her hands outstretched in a placating gesture.

  "He didn't kidnap me. I was running away, Peter. I was leaving the community."

  "What?" Shock crossed Peter's face, and he slowly lowered the gun. His gaze flickered from Mary to Andre. "What are you saying?"

  "I couldn't stand it anymore! Always working, always taking care of everything. And nobody cared." Mary felt her throat closing. "It had been three weeks since anybody said thank you to me. Three weeks! I ran that house, but everybody acted as though I was a servant!

  "And then to listen to Mother's constant criticisms about how I looked, my weight, and the way I dressed?" Mary couldn't stop now that she had started. "And Father, keeping the money so tightly clenched in his fist that I couldn't even buy clothes that looked halfway decent on me, and not being able to finish school because I was so busy taking care of children, wiping their noses, making sure they were fed!"

  Peter ran a hand over his singed hair. "Why didn't you tell anybody how you felt?"

  "I did! Nobody believed me because they think I am an overly emotional woman with my mood swings and because I didn't embrace my Wolf. When did I have time?" Tears were beginning to flow down her cheeks. "Being with Andre has been the happiest time of my life. I've been able to read, to play in the snow, to go running with my Wolf. I don't have to cook and clean all day long, I can do it because I want to, not because Father will belt me if I don't have supper on the table for him!"

  Andre put a hand on her shoulder. "You should leave, Peter Locke."

  Peter didn't look at him. He picked up his rifle again and took the bullets out, tucking them into his pocket. "I would like to thank you for taking good care of my sister. And now I would appreciate it if we could speak alone."

  "What makes you think I want to?" Mary asked, but Andre had already squeezed her shoulder and headed back to the cabin.

  "Mary?" Peter looked uncertain. "Can we sit, and… and talk?"

  "Yes." Mary dragged her feet as she went to Peter, and led him into the barn. They sat on hay bales in front of the sheep pen. "I'm not going back."

  Peter cautiously put a hand over hers. "Not to Father's house, no. I won't let him treat you this way. By why didn't you tell me how badly you were feeling? I could have done something to help."

  "You know exactly what that house is like," Mary said roughly, looking at the ground. "You know what Father and Mother are like, you know how hard I worked all the time. You know how miserable I was. I shouldn't have had to tell you."

  "You can come to my house. You can live with Amy and me. And if Father won't arrange a courtship for you, I will."

  She knew she couldn't tell him that she had already found her soulmate, and he was a Bear. Mary pushed the loose hay near her feet into a pile. "No."

  "No?"

  Mary looked up, setting her jaw. "No. I am not going back there, Peter. I am going to find my own mate. I am going to forge my own life. I am a Wolf, not a den mother or a pup."

  Peter's face flushed. "Mary, you're not seeing this for what it is—"

  "I am not going back." She stood. "Goodbye, Peter."

  ***

  Would she go back with him? Andre sat at his table, staring into the cup of coffee he had made himself. Visiting Isadore and Eve's graves had only strengthened his resolve. Mary had to leave so he could be strong enough to avenge them. But what if she went back to the Wolf community? Could he attack her family, knowing she might be hurt when he did? And even if she wasn't, they would blame her, and she would pay the price!

  His hands trembled. Please stay with me.

  He looked up sharply when the door opened. But Mary was in and out in a second, grabbing the keys to her car and disappearing again. His heart plummeted. No.

  Everything seemed foggy and distant as he listened to the car engine start. His hands tightened around the mug until it cracked. Hot coffee spilled over his hands, but he hardly noticed. She was gone. Just like that, she was gone, back to her father.

  How could he have been so stupid? He should have chased off Peter Locke the moment he showed his face! He should never have let Mary stay and ease her way into his heart. He should—

  The door opened again. Mary stepped in, tears streaming down her face, but her eyes resolute. She met his gaze and for a long time neither spoke. Andre thought his heart might burst with joy, seeing her there, seeing her standing before him, still here with him.

  "I am never going back," she said. Her voice broke, and suddenly she was crying.

  Andre found his feet and went to her. He meant for a simple, comforting embrace, but then her arms were around him, her lips pressed to his, her body swelling to meet his.

  No. He couldn't. He had to break it off now before he hurt her more.

  But when she took his hand and led him to the bedroom he followed, aching for her touch, her comfort, just as much as she ached for him. Limbs and tongue tangled, clothing was shed. Her moans urged him on as his lips moved from her mouth to her neck to lower.

  I have to stop this before it's too late, he told himself firmly.

  She laid down on the bed, her beautiful raven hair fanning about her. "Come to me."

  He could not disobey her, not when she looked so beautiful, so vulnerable. Andre smiled as he gazed at her, his hand running up her thigh, reveling in the softness and fullness of her body. Her lips parted, and he obeyed the unspoken command, bending towards her. Passions surged, and their touch became more frantic. Souls merged as their bodies became one.
>
  Chapter Nine

  I love her. That's why she has to leave. Andre focused on the cars ahead of him. He hated driving in the city. Everybody was in such a rush. Cars crowded together like girls gossiping on the playground, an accident waiting to happen.

  Lower elevations and Chinook winds had melted the snow out here a long time ago. On some trees, the first hints of buds were starting to green. Otherwise, it was all gray and brown, concrete and mud. Even the air smelled dirty.

  Andre glanced at Mary. Her face was turned to the window, but he could see her pain reflected in the glass. They couldn't get a plane ticket to leave on such short notice, so now he was driving to the Greyhound bus station. She would be away soon enough.

  "Do you know where you're going to go?" He couldn't keep dwelling on his thoughts in silence.

  "East. I did all the research before I bought my plane ticket. I'm going to stay at a YWCA until I can get find myself a job and start living life as a human." She shivered. "I didn't think I'd miss being able to embrace my Wolf, but now that I've had four months with her… I'm going to miss running free. I'll have to be satisfied with the full moon."

  If she stayed, he couldn't keep the truth of what her father did a secret. He couldn't bear to think of how utterly betrayed she would feel. His hands tightened on the wheel, bolstering his resolve by imagining her face when he declared that he planned to kill her father and her brothers.

  Is revenge worth losing her?

  Even if he did turn away from his vengeful path, where would they go? What would they do? The Wolves knew where he lived now. Could he just load up his animals and leave? Turn his back on everything that had been giving him purpose? He was so close… He had only put off his plans to hunt down and kill Locke and his sons during the full moon when they were drunk with moonlight and unable to take human form, because Mary was with him.

  "Are you going to be okay? You don't know anything about the human world."

  "That's not true. I shopped in town, and they were humans. None of them knew about our Wolves. I even courted a human." Mary straightened then. She turned her face so she was looking ahead and took a deep breath. "And what I don't know, I'll learn. I'm smart. I'm brave. I'm strong."

  She sounded like she was trying to convince herself, but Andre believed her. His shoulders relaxed. It was only by chance that she had come into his life. Or, more accurately, he had only come into her life by chance. She had already been on her way to freedom when he stepped into her path and delayed her.

  "You are going to be okay," he said, offering a small smile. "You're going to be okay."

  ***

  When Andre stopped at the bus station, Mary froze. She couldn't do this. What was she doing? Andre was right, she didn't know anything about the human world! She didn't have an education. She didn't have any money except for what was in the Ziploc bag. She didn't even know what kind of work she could get!

  Nonsense, she told herself. I am a hard worker who can do anything that needs to be done around a house. They'll be lucky to have me.

  As she opened the door, Andre reached out and caught her hand. Her heart lifted, a flood of emotions coursing through her as the hope made itself manifest; that he would ask her to stay, or that he would go with her, that he would say the three words that had been on her lips for months now.

  "Here," he pressed a credit card into her hand. "The PIN is 3830. Use it whenever you need to."

  She nodded silently, not trusting her voice. Let me stay. But she couldn't if he didn't want her to. And he had told her that he couldn't give her his life. What else was she expecting? His wife and daughter brutally murdered. His grief was too much for him to commit to anybody else, that much was obvious. Besides, he didn't believe in soulmates. Even if she told him that he was hers, he just wouldn't believe it.

  Her own soul felt like it was splitting down the middle, but she slipped out of the truck and closed the door firmly behind herself. I will not cry.

  Not until she was safely out of sight, at least.

  ***

  Andre watched her go. He waited for her to turn around, to run back, but her head was held high as she walked away. He had expected that she would come back. He had braced himself for the possibility, practiced making her leave.

  What he didn't expect was the soul-numbing pain of watching her walk away and not have her turn back, not even once. A swell of panic beat hard against his chest. She was walking away, and he would never see her again. Never hear her voice. Never taste her lips. He had been so busy worrying about revenge and letting her go that he never took the time to stop and memorize her. What did she smell like? How did her brows pinch together when she was concentrating?

  I can't.

  He lurched from the truck, heart in his throat. "Mary!"

  She was at the doors but at his shout turned. Andre dashed across the pavement, running as hard as he could. He couldn't let her go. It was selfish and stupid, but he couldn't let her go!

  "Mary!"

  She hadn't moved by the time he got to her. Her breaths were short, rapid, a wide-eyed look on her face that told him she wasn't letting herself hope. He reached for her but suddenly felt shy and let his arms drop.

  "Mary," he said yet again.

  She didn't speak.

  "I don't want you to go." Saying it out loud was like the sun breaking through a cloudy day. He laughed and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in tight. "I don't want you to go. I love you!"

  Her fingers tangled in his hair and then she was kissing him. It was all the answer he needed. All the answer he wanted. "I love you," he moaned between kisses, wanting every inch of her to know how much he loved her, wanted her. "I love you. I love you!"

  Mary laughed. "I love you, too."

  ***

  "We're going east together," Mary grinned as she said it.

  Happiness bubbled in her chest, making her feel like she was floating, rather than driving along the dirt road that was taking them back to the cabin. They were going to get the animals and Andre's favorite books, and then they would be gone. Far, far away where they could be together forever.

  Andre glanced over at her, laughing. "That's the third time you've said that."

  "I know. I just like saying it."

  She bounced in her seat, eager to get to the cabin and gather their things; to start a new life, her, Andre and whatever may come.

  "Do you think we should load up tonight or wait for the morning?" The sun was already behind the mountain, bathing the land in the blue gleam of twilight.

  "Tonight," Andre didn't hesitate. "The sooner we get out of here—"

  He cut off. When she saw what he saw, she gasped. Her hands flew to her mouth. Andre slammed on the brakes, making them both jerk against their seatbelts.

  Where the cabin had stood was now a pile of blackened wood. Mary felt like she was in some sort of insane nightmare. What had happened? They had let the fire go out overnight, and before they left that morning, Andre had stirred the coals to make sure that they were cold. Had something gone wrong with the electricity? But no. There was no smoke rising from the ruins. Somebody would have had to have put out the fire and if they had done that…

  Andre suddenly bolted from the truck. Mary scrambled to follow him as he ran full-tilt towards the barn. The door was already open. Somehow, she knew what they were going to find inside.

  The sheep and the goat were all dead. They were torn open, blood soaking into the hay. The smell rose nauseatingly, and Mary choked back vomit. She turned away, gagging and choking. The silence was heavy, and eventually she looked back to see Andre standing in the middle of his animals, shoulders slumped, head bowed.

  She slowly went to him, reaching to touch his shoulder. He pulled away. The little lamb was at his feet. Mary knelt, hand trembling as she reached for it. Its body was cold.

  "Who could have done this?" Her voice was barely more than a whisper. She pulled the butchered corpse into her arms and rocked it, feeling c
old through her whole body.

  Andre's answer was more growl than voice. "Paul Locke. That's who did this." He turned to Mary and with a thrill of horror she saw his eyes were completely black, the way they were when he embraced his Bear. "Your father did this."

  Chapter Ten

  The frozen earth was difficult to dig into. The shovel cracked down the middle after fifteen minutes and Andre Mitchell threw it away, embracing his Bear to continue his task. His breath crystallized in bursts as his claws gouged the earth. The smell of blood and death hung around him, so heavy that he couldn't smell the Wolf that had done this.

  After several hours, his shoulders felt like they were about to be dislocated and his paws hurt so bad they were numb, but he was done. He suppressed his Bear, becoming human in form again, and turned reluctantly. Mary was still kneeling on the muddy ground, her arms wrapped around the little lamb that she had helped deliver four months ago. Tears rolled down her cheeks and that hurt his heart, almost as badly as seeing his little flock of sheep and goat senselessly butchered and left to rot.

  The same way he killed Isadore and Eve.

  Fury kindled in his chest, making his Bear roar for blood. Andre closed his eyes and held it back–for now. He had to take care of this first. Revenge would come later, and it would be sweet.

  Mary looked up as he approached. "You really think my father did this?"

  Andre swallowed down a bitter reply. Silently he picked up the goat's corpse and took it to the grave. The water-drenched remains of the cabin he lived in with his wife and daughter before they were murdered caught his eye. Paul Locke had been very deliberate in destroying it. There was still a faint scent of gasoline in the air, but no smoke or heat rose from scorched wood.

  He will pay.

  He would pay for this, and he would pay for what he had done to Isadore and Eve. Andre's gaze fell on Mary again as she stumbled to her feet, bringing the little lamb to the grave. She laid it in next to the goat, her shoulders shaking with sobs. Mary Locke, Paul's eldest child.