Werebear's Nanny_A Paranormal Romance

by T. S. Ryder

  Dawn was rising on the fourth day when Julia finally told Andre they'd arrived. They were well off the beaten path, in a little town that looked deserted.

  He pulled into the parking lot of an old inn, next to a couple of mopeds. The building was shabby but not falling apart, and the grounds had the look of recently being tended to.

  As they all piled from the car, a heavily pregnant woman stepped out of the inn.

  "They took him!" she sobbed, running to Julia.

  Andre watched the Wolves, feeling uncertain. His Bear grumbled in his chest, but it was angry with him and no amount of coaxing would draw it forward. He felt alone and vulnerable. Yes, he'd helped Mary's siblings get away from the massacre, but where was Mary? He had wasted so much time!

  Not wasted. Julia had been able to overhear where Mary was being sent. He had a starting location, at least.

  "Took who?" Julia asked as Andre turned back to his car.

  "Peter."

  Andre stopped. The Bears had taken him? He couldn't deny that he approved. Perhaps if Easton had the murderers in his custody, he would let the rest of them go.

  The pregnant woman sobbed. "Philip, John, and Thomas arrived just before you did. Peter turned himself over to those Bears. He said something about facing justice. What am I supposed to do?" She wailed. "How can I go on without him?"

  Andre turned his back on the Wolves. They were no longer his concern. He slid into the car and headed back for the highway. He had to find Mary.

  Chapter Thirty

  Andre prowled the streets of the stinking city, hands shoved into his pockets to avoid punching a wall as his frustration continued to build.

  Julia swore that Mary had been sent to somewhere in Chicago, but he had been in the city for two months now and hadn't seen any sign of her. It was a big place, though. All he could do was walk around and hope he would run into her.

  He had risked embracing his Bear a couple of times while searching for her scent, but grizzlies were not a welcome sight in the city. The second time the police had been called on him, he knew he couldn't continue to take such risky ventures.

  He slipped into a café, ordering a cup of coffee and took a spot near the window to glare out it. His face was half-reflected back at him, but he tried to focus past it to the hot, humid day outside. Trees lined the street in this section, and their bright green leaves were a relief against the brilliant sun reflected off the tall glass buildings.

  His cell phone rang. Andre ignored it for a moment, grunting as he spun it around the table. It was probably Julia again. She called him constantly.

  It might be an actual emergency this time. "Hello?"

  "Have you found her?"

  Andre bit back a grunt. "If I had, I would have told you."

  "You haven't called in two days! We thought that you had found her and run off without telling her about us." The accusation didn't cover the pouting tone of her voice. "And we're out of milk."

  Lord help me. Andre closed his eyes. He understood why Mary had chosen to leave when she had–her siblings were so needy! Julia acted as though he was meant to take care of every detail of their lives, or that she needed his permission to do anything that wasn't daily routine. I suppose that is the way Paul Locke ran his family.

  It was still very annoying.

  "If you need milk, buy milk. You have a car, you have money, I am not coming back just to bring you groceries! I will call when—"

  "When you bring Mary back, you're going to go save Peter, aren't you?"

  Andre held his breath a moment. He's already dead. "Don't call me again. If I have news, I'll call you. Got it?"

  He hung up before she could utter another word. The sharp, bitter scent of coffee helped to override some of the burnt air smell that always permeated cities, but it did nothing to improve his mood. He returned his gaze to the window, his eyes tracing the bass clef scar on his reflected face. He had deliberately made that scar, as a reminder of his need for revenge.

  Now it was just a reminder that he had failed once again to protect the woman he loved.

  "Can I get a cup of coffee to go?"

  Andre's heart suddenly thumped twice as fast, but he sat frozen. That voice! He tried to stop himself from hoping. He had thought he had heard her voice so many times, but every time it ended up breaking his heart a little more when he found that it wasn't her.

  His lungs had difficulty drawing in air as he forced himself to look, expecting a woman he didn't know.

  His heartbeat increased.

  Her long, black hair had been cut to shoulder-length and dyed a dark auburn. Her skin was the same smooth alabaster, though she wore makeup now, darkening her eyes and brightening her lips. But it was her. Sharp green eyes. Rosebud mouth. Small nose. Hourglass curves, round and delicious on her beautiful, voluptuous body.

  "Mary!"

  She turned as the barista handed her a drink. Andre's heart leaped to his throat and he froze, uncertain what to say or do now. Did he fall to his knees and beg her to forgive him? Was he meant to take her in his arms and thank her and kiss her until neither of them could breathe?

  A puzzled look crossed Mary's face. She hesitated a moment, then walked over to him. "Do I know you?"

  Andre's heart died. He had known. He had been warned. He had been bracing himself. But none of that mattered. Somewhere in his heart, he thought she would instantly remember him - that all of her memories would come rushing back the moment their eyes locked. As if they were part of some sort of sappy romantic comedy, where everything would end with a happily ever after.

  "I…"

  Mary tilted her head to one side, her brow furrowed. "You look really familiar."

  Andre couldn't breathe again. His brain seemed to be made of mush.

  "I was in an accident recently," Mary continued. "I, uh… Well. I hit my head or something and got amnesia. So when I ask if we know each other, I'm being genuine. If we do know each other, I won't remember you."

  He remembered how to breathe again and let out a slow breath. Amnesia. Of course, that would be how they would explain it. He could work with that. He could help her remember. If she never did… Mary had said more than once that he was her soulmate. Feelings that deep could not just disappear, could they?

  "Would you like to sit with me for a while?" his voice was hoarse, as though he had been eating sandpaper.

  Mary's brows rose.

  Andre cleared his throat. "I mean, we both have coffee. Maybe we could sit and talk for a while, see if anything comes back to you?"

  "So we do know each other?"

  "You could say that, yes."

  Mary cocked her head, studying him. "I don't really have time right now, but if you want, we can meet up at some other time. I work at the library over on, uh…" She waved her hand vaguely. "I can't remember the street name. But it's the one closest to here. If you want, we can meet up for lunch after I'm done tomorrow."

  Andre nodded, not daring to speak in case he blurted out everything and scared her away.

  "Tomorrow then?" Mary started to turn.

  His heart ached to think of her walking away and reached for her arm though he stopped himself from actually touching her. "Wait. Maybe we can just talk for five minutes?"

  "I'm sorry, I can't." She gave him a regretful smile. "My husband is waiting for me at home."

  Husband?

  Andre nodded numbly. He sank back down as she walked away, not watching her go this time. When they first met she told him she wasn't married. So why did she have a husband now? Was it part of the story the Wolves told her after they erased her memories? Or had she not told him her whole story when they met?

  Husband.

  ***

  Mary didn't realize she hadn't even tasted her coffee until she was at her apartment. It was cold by that time. She dumped it down the sink and threw out the cup as she entered.

  'Apartment' might actually be too strong a word for this place, she mused. When coming in from the hall
way, she entered directly into the kitchen, which consisted of two cupboards for food, a hotplate for a stove, a sink, and a shoe rack on the other side where they stored the pots and pans.

  "I'm home," she called, stepping into the single room that was their den and bedroom.

  She kicked off her shoes and sank onto the hide-a-bed couch, sighing. It was nice to get off her feet! She had apparently just been hired for the library job before her accident, but she dreaded going to work every day. It just wasn't her. She loved reading, but just because she was at a library didn't mean she had any time to actually read.

  Her husband, David, stepped from the bathroom. "How was work?"

  "It was good." She plastered a smile on her face as she stared hard at the stranger she shared her life with. She wanted to remember him, but there was no flicker of recognition in her mind.

  Not like the beautiful man who she had seen in the coffee shop. She let her mind drift back to him. His tanned skin with muscles taut against his button-up shirt. He made her feel slightly dizzy. She liked the way he did his brown hair - long, pulled up into a bun at the back of his head. It was a look she generally didn't like on men, but on that particular man, it looked… right.

  She suddenly realized she hadn't asked his name.

  "Well, Mrs. Monroe?" David sank onto the couch next to her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. "What do you say to a nice romantic dinner tonight?"

  He leaned in to kiss her.

  Mary shifted, pulling herself away from her husband. She shook her head. "I'm really tired," she lied. "I think I'm just going to take a bath."

  David frowned as Mary slipped into the bathroom. The tub wasn't really big enough for a good soak, but she needed some space between her and David. He was being very patient with her, even though she rarely let him kiss her since the accident. It just wasn't something she wanted to do. She did not want to engage in physical intimacy, at least until she remembered her feelings for him.

  As she sank into the bath, her mind turned from David. It was almost against her will. The face of the stranger from the coffee shop floated before her eyes. He looked so familiar. Especially that curious bass clef shaped scar on his cheek. How had I known him? Was he a friend? Or… a lover?

  Chapter Thirty One

  When Andre called Julia and told her that he had found Mary, she had been pleased. Now, she said, he could bring Mary back and go get Peter.

  It had taken a lot of strength to just hang up instead of saying what he really wanted to say. He had warned them that the Bears were coming for them. He owed them nothing else and was certainly not going to rescue the man that had killed his wife and daughter! He's already dead, anyway.

  Returning to that old inn was out of the question as well. Several times he had heard Philip's voice in the background. He had been a part of Isadore and Eve's murders, just as much as Peter had been. If he went back, how was he meant to stop himself from embracing his Bear and ripping the man to shreds?

  For Mary's sake, he could not. Philip was almost like a child to her, less so than her younger siblings, but she still loved him. Andre could not kill someone she loved.

  He had watched her the previous day, seeing which apartment building she went to after leaving the café. He wasn’t sure why he had followed her. They had an appointment to meet the next day and he didn't want to scare her off. Perhaps he just wanted to see her get home safely. Maybe it was just that he never wanted to take his eyes off her.

  The night was spent pacing round and round the cheap apartment he was renting, trying to think of how to tell Mary about her past, about him. Every time he tried to say the words out loud, even to himself, they sounded flat and false.

  When morning came, he had a reasonably well thought-out plan to get more information. At least, he hoped it was reasonable. His lack of sleep made it difficult to determine if it was just desperate.

  He waited in an alley when Mary left for work, then crossed the street to the apartment building she had just come from. He rang every apartment one by one, asking for Mary Locke, hoping she still went by that name. He received a lot of apologies and a few curses in response, but finally, finally, hit a voice that told him what room number to come to.

  The elevator seemed to take forever as Andre bounced on his toes, ignoring the looks that the people who got onto the elevator gave him. Expressions ranged from incredulous to lustful. He was used to such open staring. He didn't exactly fit in. Mary herself once told him he looked like a Norse god.

  A man waited outside the door of Mary's apartment.

  "I'm David Monroe," he said, ushering Andre in.

  Andre glanced around the tiny apartment, gut twisting. His eyes sought out every corner, finding it clean and well-furnished despite its size. "David Monroe. She told me about you."

  "She wanted me to start courting her before she… left." David took a deep breath. "And you must be Andre Mitchel. The Bear. Peter told me that you would track us down."

  Andre turned to the Wolf. "What else did he say?"

  "Mary thought that you were her soulmate and that if you found her again, it had to be true."

  "So the two of you are friends?"

  David quailed under Andre's intense stare and shook his head. He fidgeted a moment before he slipped past the Bear into the more open space of the single room. "I never knew the Lockes well. I didn't know that Mary wanted to court me until I was sent out here with her."

  Andre's eyes narrowed. "You're not her husband then?"

  The Wolf's head jerked. He stepped back, paling. "You've already talked with her?"

  Andre did not reply.

  "I had to tell her something. The retainer that the community gave me to support her until it was certain her Wolf was fully purged was only enough for this size of apartment. I did not think it was appropriate to… sleep in the same bed if…"

  Andre's Bear growled a challenge and the sound reverberated from his chest. David flinched and backed away.

  "Nothing has happened between us, Sir. It was merely a cover. Even if I kiss her goodnight sometimes, she doesn't kiss me back." The Wolf paled even further, though Andre hadn't made a move, and shook his head as though denying an accusation. "I just wanted to see if it would have worked between us. I've never had the desire to marry, and sometimes I think it means I don't have a soulmate. But—"

  "You said you were here to make sure Mary's Wolf was purged. What do you mean by that?"

  David swallowed hard and Andre resisted the urge to shake him and tell him that he had no intention of harming him–two conflicting notions, he realized.

  "There is a chance, however slight, that her Wolf was not buried deep enough. That the full moon will pull it forward again. It's very dangerous for a Purged Wolf to return during the involuntary transformation. It will sometimes lead the Wolf to madness… well, you've heard stories, haven't you?"

  Andre nodded slowly. He wasn't listening to that part, though. Hope was rising in his chest. "Then there is a chance she could remember?"

  "A chance, yes. But it would be better if she didn't. Not after the trauma she has been through."

  "Trauma that your people put her through." Andre paused, studying the Wolf. Out here with Mary, did he even know what had happened in the Wolf community? If he was told, would that get rid of him? And leave Mary on her own?

  Andre shook his head. She wouldn't be alone–he'd be with her. A man she doesn't know. She doesn't need any more instability right now.

  "I am not going to give up," Andre warned the Wolf. "I am going to stay as close as I can to her unless she asks me to leave."

  "Peter said to expect as much." David paused and sighed. "If you're truly her soulmate, I hope you succeed. But you have to leave now. I have a job myself, and I'm going to be late."

  Andre considered telling him about his meeting with Mary but dismissed it. If she hadn't told David, then he wasn't going to.

  ***

  It was a quiet day in the library. Mary
sat behind the checkout desk, trying to focus on her work. Every time she heard footsteps her head jerked up, heart pounding, expecting to see the handsome, god-worthy man she had seen in the coffee shop. The minutes seemed to crawl by until noon. She tried to tell herself not to be so excited. After all, she didn't even know the man!

  Except when she finally did see him walking toward the desk, she was overwhelmed by the sense that she knew him. There was a tug somewhere in her stomach that drew her to him, and her breath locked in her chest. Her heart beat faster, as though trying to jump out of her chest and run to him.

  Her cheeks warmed at the intense look he was giving her, as though he expected her to remember him.

  Had she been unfaithful to her husband? She hardly recognized him, even two months after the accident that stole her memories. Her hand drifted unconsciously to her stomach. She'd just learned about the baby last week. Was David the father, was it this man?

  "Hi," she said when he was close enough. She covered her nervousness with a smile. "I'm about to take my break. I didn't catch your name yesterday."

  "Andre."

  "Andre," Mary repeated, liking the way it sounded on her tongue. "Let me just tell the others I'm going."

  Andre nodded.

  Soon they were seated in the coffee shop where they had met the previous day. It seemed appropriate.

  "So," Mary said as she settled down with the sandwich she had ordered. "Uh, maybe you should give me your number. In case we want to get together some other time or something."

  "Of course." Andre rattled off a number, which she wrote on a napkin. He kept looking at her as though he was afraid she would disappear. It made her knees feel like jelly.

  "How did we meet?" she asked, tucking the napkin into her pocket.

  Finally, he looked away and Mary felt she could breathe. The pull she felt towards him, he had to be more than just a casual acquaintance. If they had been lovers, would he tell her the truth or lie about their relationship?

  "You had some trouble on the road last winter. I helped you out."

  Mary waited for more, but Andre took a swig of his coffee as though it was a bottle of beer and said nothing else. Silence descended between them and Mary spun her sandwich around. She wasn't so hungry anymore.