Chapter 8
Stunned, Eric shook the other man’s hand.
“I hope you don’t mind me dropping in on you like this.”
Actually, Eric minded. He minded a lot. If this guy could find him, then so could Yolanda. Not just that, but he couldn’t help but worry about his son’s safety. As long as the Protectors were floating around the slightest possibility that Yolanda might be Berserker, Garth would be in danger.
“What do you want?” He didn’t bother to keep the hostility from his tone. “Surely you’re not here because of Yolanda.”
“May I come in?”
Reluctantly, Eric stepped aside. In the long run, it would be better to make this man his friend. “Sure. Take a seat. Can I get you something to drink?”
“No, thanks. I’m good.” Rather than sitting, DeLeon stood, awkwardly twisting a sheet of paper in his hand. “Listen, Yolanda took off from the hospital. We think she got into a car that exploded, though it’s been extremely difficult to ID the body.”
Eric stared. “What? A car explosion? I don’t understand. How was she even well enough to leave the hospital? I thought she was in critical condition from her self-inflicted gunshot wound.”
“She had help. Security footage showed another woman came and helped her. The hospital garage showed the two of them getting into a red Fiat. After that, we don’t know where she went. Two hours later, the Fiat exploded on a construction lot three blocks west of the hospital. Only one body was recovered, so we aren’t sure if it was Yolanda or the woman who helped her. Forensics is working on this as we speak.”
Something in his tone didn’t ring true. Or, Eric thought to himself, it was possible he was just being paranoid.
“Thanks for letting me know.” Eric wasn’t sure what else to say. “You came all the way out here just to tell me this?”
“No,” DeLeon admitted, watching him closely. “There’s more. A lot more. But I must say, you don’t seem very grief stricken.”
“I’m not. Shocked, yes. Sad, because she wasted her life and she was the mother of my son. But beyond that, there’s nothing. Whatever we had between us died a long time ago.”
“I see.” But DeLeon’s tone said he didn’t.
Crossing his arms, Eric nodded. “Go ahead. You said there’s more.”
“In the course of this investigation, we’ve learned your ex was hanging around with a group of—and this is putting it mildly—deranged individuals.”
“I’m not surprised,” Eric said. “She always did like to party.”
Now DeLeon dropped into the chair. Dragging his hand through his close-cropped hair, he sighed. “It’s more than that, I’m afraid. These individuals have founded some sort of cult. The Bear Council as well as the Pack Protectors are extremely concerned with their activities. It seems they want to breed Berserkers. We’re not sure why—their own little army, maybe? For whatever reason, this is why Yolanda was so focused on getting your son. She has convinced herself that the baby carries the necessary gene mutation to become Berserker.”
As he tried to process DeLeon’s words, Eric waited for the other man to laugh and admit he was joking. When he didn’t, Eric swallowed hard. “That’s crazy. Surely you’re not serious.”
“Unfortunately, I am.” DeLeon grimaced. “Even worse, your ex-wife was one of the founders. There are reports—unsubstantiated as of yet—of her changing into a bear in front of some humans. Why, we aren’t certain.”
Immediately, Eric understood the rest of what the other man hadn’t said. This was not only an extremely serious violation of shifter law, but dangerous. Doing something like this could bring everything crashing down, exposing millions of shape-shifters’ lives, and sending humanity into chaos and war once they learned of the existence of others who previously had been only the stuff of legend and folktales.
“I see you understand the seriousness of this situation,” DeLeon continued.
“I do. I don’t see how it could get any worse.”
DeLeon eyed him for a second. “It can and does. Even if the body we found was Yolanda’s, there are many unknown people who belonged to her group. Your son’s life is still in danger.”
Dread shuddered up Eric’s spine. “That’s why I chose to move so far away. In fact, Jason was the only Protector who knew where to find me. I’m assuming since you came all the way here, there are others who know my location, as well.”
“Yes. I’m sorry. And we still don’t know what Jason revealed to Yolanda before she killed him. Even if he kept your secret, his cell phone disappeared after he was murdered. We used the GPS to track it, and it was found in a Dumpster near where the car exploded. We aren’t sure what may or may not have been on it. End result? We’re afraid some members of the group might be coming after your baby.”
Over his dead body. As the words sunk in, Eric’s bear roared to life inside him, furious in defense of his cub. For a split second or two, he allowed his beast to rage unchecked, while he tried to throttle the anger boiling up inside him.
Watching, DeLeon recoiled, as if Eric’s inner struggle had become visible. “Are you all right, man?”
It took another couple seconds before Eric could push a single word past the hard lump of fury in his throat. “Actually, I’m not. No way in hell any of them are getting near my son.”
“I concur, I concur.” DeLeon hurriedly raised his hand. “I just wanted to make you aware of the situation. The Pack Protectors have graciously offered to extend to you our Witness Protection Program, even though you’re not exactly a witness.”
The words didn’t register at first. “What do you mean?”
His expression earnest, DeLeon leaned forward. “You and your son can have our protection. We’ll set you up a new identity somewhere far away. Those crazies won’t have any way to find you.”
“This is my new location.” Eric shook his head firmly. “I just traveled all the way across the country, from one coast to another. I don’t plan on going anywhere else. What kind of life would that be for Garth if I’m constantly on the run?”
“I understand.” DeLeon’s steady gaze was probably meant to be reassuring. “But we can’t protect you here. If you come with us, we can. If you stay in Forestwood, you’ll be on your own.”
“Why?” Eric crossed his arms. “Why can’t your people assign someone to watch over me here, just like they would if I went somewhere else? That doesn’t even make sense.”
Now DeLeon looked away. “I agree,” he said quietly. “And I’m working very hard to convince my superiors. Right now, you have a fifty-fifty chance of them finding you. Please consider allowing us to use our vast network to help you and your son disappear.”
Still stunned, upset and worried, Eric nodded. “I’ll think about it,” he said. The new life he’d so been looking forward to might not work out the way he’d hoped.
* * *
After her conversation with Rhonda, JJ kept expecting her neighbor to show up at Eric’s. But Rhonda stayed home, at least for now. As for Eric, JJ hadn’t seen him since he’d thought Garth had stopped breathing. She’d noticed a strange car parked in front of the house and assumed he’d had company, though she’d never seen the car leave or even who it belonged to. She wished she could ask him, but since it seemed he might be purposely avoiding her, she couldn’t.
The strange thing was, she missed him far more than she should have missed a man she barely knew.
To be fair, she and Eric hadn’t sought each other out. Not since the incident with little Garth. Though it had been only a couple days, it seemed longer. The few times she’d gone into town, she’d felt uncomfortable in her own stairway, rehearsing what she’d say if she ran into him.
Meanwhile, she set about enjoying the outdoors—and the winter weather—as much as she could.
Though the forecasters kept insisting they’d see another snowstorm soon, nothing happened. The already existing snow stuck around in the below-freezing temperatures, declining to melt. Of course, since it was January, it seemed the sun had taken a leave of absence, hiding behind a thick veil of gray clouds.
She, like probably everyone else in the area, had gotten to the point of completely disregarding the weather report, which seemed constantly to be all doom and gloom and unwarranted agitation. She was simply adopting a “wait and see” attitude. So when the next blizzard finally hit, she didn’t see it coming.
Caught by surprise, she found her first warning was the howl of the wind. It woke her from a sound sleep and had her sitting up in her bed, disoriented. The wind whipped around the corners in a rage, testing the windows, seeking admission. She shivered, snuggling under the covers in search of sleep, even as the house stood stalwart, denying entrance.
In the morning she woke to the same sound. Exhilarated and thrilled, she hurried to the window and peered outside, seeing only wild swirls of wind-driven snow. Visibility was next to nothing, which meant whiteout conditions. When she turned on the TV, the weather forecaster was talking excitedly, calling this winter one for the record books. A travel advisory had been issued, and everyone was urged to hunker down until the storm passed.
Glad she’d stocked up at the grocery store the other day, JJ wondered if Eric had enough provisions. Because he was new to the East Coast, she couldn’t help but worry, though she told herself it was none of her business.
Some might have felt trapped, housebound by the weather. Not JJ. She spent the day puttering around her little house, cleaning and baking, which filled her space with mouthwatering scents. She figured she’d take a few baked goods downstairs to Eric, as a sort of peace offering. Even in the city, none of Shawn’s friends had been able to pass up her brownies.
The warm, cozy feeling she always got when snowed in relaxed her. After she’d cleaned the place and put some homemade stew in the Crock-Pot for dinner, she caught herself again wondering what Eric was up to. The brownies were wrapped up and ready to go. Briefly, JJ considered making a quick jog downstairs to deliver them, and inviting him to dinner while she was at it, but she wasn’t sure how it would make her feel if he declined, so she didn’t. She’d take him the baked goods when she could think of facing him without her heart thundering in her chest. Right now, humming as she puttered around, she just wanted to enjoy her space on this glorious snowy day.
She’d built a fire in her fireplace, opened her bottle of wine and gotten settled on the couch with a blanket, and a bowl of fresh-popped popcorn to tide her over until later. Now she was trying to decide on which of her favorite DVDs to watch, since cable TV had gone out. As she sorted through them, someone knocked on her door.
Someone. Right. Her heart kicked into a rapid beat. Because who else could it be but Eric? Even Rhonda wouldn’t have attempted to slog through that mess outside to come over. Everyone else had been trapped in their homes by the storm.
And now her heart was racing again. Wishing she’d worn something other than the faded, yet oh-so-comfy sweatpants and old red sweatshirt—she could almost hear her mother lecturing her on how redheads didn’t look good in red—she answered the door.
“Hey,” Eric said, smiling. “The cable is out. There’s no TV.”
“Yeah.” She managed to smile back, though she directed it at baby Garth, even though he appeared to be deeply asleep in his portable crib. “My neighbor told me that basically happens every time there’s a really bad storm. Rain or snow.”
“Really?” Peering past her, he eyed her setup on the couch. “What are you watching?”
“I don’t know yet.” She opened the door wider. “I’m going through my DVD collection now. You’re welcome to join me if you’d like.”
Part of her hoped he would. The other, more rational part figured he wouldn’t.
Relief shone in his bright blue eyes. “I’d like that. I was feeling a bit trapped. I guess I’ve lived in sunny Cali for so long I’d forgotten what a beating it is when you’re snowed in.”
A beating? She’d never looked at it that way, but then she’d been told her entire life that she was unusual in her love of winter. Opening the door even wider, she gestured. “Come on in. I just made some popcorn. And we have wine.”
Placing little Garth on the floor near but not too close to the fireplace, Eric grinned and held up a paper sack. Inside, she saw a six-pack. “I brought beer.”
At her stunned look, he shrugged. “Just in case you were as bored as I am.”
Which, she thought ruefully, put everything back into perspective.
“It smells amazing in here,” he said. “Though I can’t place that combination of scents.”
Trying for nonchalance, she grinned anyway. “I made brownies and French bread and beef stew.” She grabbed the plate of brownies she’d fixed for him. “I was going to take these down to you later.”
Grinning back, he accepted. “Thank you. Chocolate is one of my weaknesses.”
Funny how the room seemed to shrink with him in it.
“Did you have a lot of college coeds throwing themselves at you when you were a professor?” she asked, wincing as she realized she’d spoken her thoughts out loud.
One brow arched, he tilted his head. “That’s kind of a strange question. Is it because of the Thor thing?”
Her shock must have shown on her face, because he laughed. “Your neighbor Rhonda called me that the other day. And I had a couple of friends who teased me relentlessly about looking like Thor. I honestly didn’t see the resemblance. Until one of them took a photo of me when we were surfing and compared it to a movie poster of that guy that plays Thor.”
Surfing? Her mouth watered at the image of him tanned and shirtless, riding a surfboard up into a giant wave.
“You mean Chris Hemsworth?” she asked, collecting her thoughts enough, hopefully, to sound coherent.
His grin widened. “Yeah, that’s the guy. Don’t tell me you think so, too.”
“Of course not,” she scoffed. “You’re much shorter than him.”
He laughed. “Touché.”
Flustered but hoping she didn’t show it, she gestured to the stack of DVDs she’d placed on her coffee table. “Take a look through those and see if there’s anything you’d like to see.”
“I don’t care. You pick.” He pulled a beer out of his sack. “Is it okay if I put the rest of these in your fridge?”
“Sure.”
Once he’d done that, he returned and took a seat on the couch. After a second’s hesitation, she dropped down next to him, wineglass in hand. Careful to keep as much space between them as possible, she grabbed the DVDs. “Romantic comedy or action adventure?”
He took a drink of beer and laughed again. “What do you think? Of course, I’ll watch whatever you want.”
“Bruce Willis it is then.”
Once she’d popped the DVD in, she put the popcorn in between them. “Help yourself.”
“Thanks.” He sniffed. “Did you already eat the stew? It smells amazing.”
“Not yet. That’s what’s in the Crock-Pot. It’s still cooking.” About to ask him if he wanted to stay for dinner, she held off. She was curious to see if he’d mention what had happened the last time she’d seen him, and if he actually had been avoiding her.
“I love beef stew,” he said. A hint if there ever was one.
She only ducked her head, pretending to be focused on the popcorn. “Maybe I can dish up a bowl to take home with you later.”
“That would be great.” If he minded or even noticed she hadn’t invited him to eat dinner with her, he didn’t comment. “Sorry I haven’t been around much,” he continued. “I’ve been trying to get situated. In addition, I’ve been dealing with the
moving company, trying to find out why my stuff isn’t here yet.” He sighed. “The weather has been bad all through the middle of the country, too. The trip that they originally estimated would take a week is taking much longer.”
Inserting the DVD in the player, she waited until it cued up and then hit the pause button. “Wow. That stinks. What all are you having brought here? If you need me to move some furniture out to make room for yours, let me know.”
“I will.” Taking another swig of his beer, he grinned at her. “Mainly, I’m worried about Garth’s crib and my Camaro.”
Perplexed, she eyed him over the rim of her wineglass. “You shipped a car?”
“Not just any car.” His grin widened, captivating her. “A fully restored 1969 Camaro SS. My other baby.”
“Oh.” She wasn’t sure what to say. She knew next to nothing about cars, though of course she was familiar with a Camaro. A new one, that is. She’d never understood what the big deal was with old cars.
At her expression, he laughed. “It’s okay, I get it. I’ll show you the car when she arrives, though. She’s gorgeous. I plan to use her as an advertisement for my new business.”
Relieved and slightly amused that he referred to the vehicle as a female, she nodded. “So you’re opening up some kind of body shop, right?”
“A car customization shop.” The happiness in his voice made her smile. “I’ve always wanted to do that. I’ve been saving for a few years. Now that I’ve sold everything I owned, I have enough cash for the startup.”
“Isn’t that kind of...specialized?”
He nodded. “It is.”
“Forestwood is a really small town,” she said cautiously. “Do you think there will be enough work here to keep you busy?”
He laughed before taking another drink of his beer. “Definitely. What you don’t understand is that people will travel all over the country to find a good shop. All I need are the first few jobs. Once those are done, word will get out. People will flock to me.”
Smiling back, she nodded. She liked his confidence. In fact, she liked a lot about him. “So you haven’t been avoiding me?” Might as well clear things up.
Her Guardian Shifter Page 8