Shifter Wonderland: Twelve BBW Paranormal Holiday Shape Shifter Romances

by Christin Lovell

  Jonah inhaled the coffee’s aroma, closed his eyes while he took the scent in.

  “Sorry, I’m late.” Fiona’s voice was breathless.

  Jonah’s eyes flew open and he spewed coffee, dousing the tabletop, causing agents to jump back.

  “Fuck,” he hissed, and looked up.

  Fiona was watching him, expressionless.

  “Romanoff, you okay?”

  “Something stuck in my throat.” My fucking heart. That’s when Jonah noticed douchebag checking out Fiona. An inferno of rage pulsed through his body.

  She’s not mine anymore. Unable to watch the idiot making mooneyes at Fiona, he turned his gaze away from douchebag Doherty.

  Vargas stood. “Team, meet Fiona Forester. Your new AIC.” He shook Fiona’s hand. “I hope the trip wasn’t too rough.”

  “I came into town a couple of days ago. Had to get my bearings.”

  Was that Jonah’s imagination or did her voice crack, just the slightest bit.

  Of the team assembled, aside from Jonah, Doherty was the only one who knew Fiona from before. The rest of the team was new, including Vargas.

  “I was thinking maybe you’d want some one-on-one time with your team. Lunch perhaps?”

  Fiona nodded. “Good idea.”

  “I scheduled you and Romanoff for today. Tomorrow Doherty. They’re the most senior on the team.”

  “Lunch today?” Jonah’s mind was working overtime trying to think of a way to get out of this. “That’s—”

  “Problem, Romanoff?”

  Jonah shook his head. “No, sir. No problem at all. Was going to say it’s a great day.” To fucking fall off the edge of the world and get lost in a chasm.

  Chapter Five

  Fiona couldn’t have said what was discussed at the meeting. Good thing the secretary was taking minutes. She’d have to review them.

  She’d compounded complications when she’d slept with Jonah last night.

  Slept hell. The last thing we did was sleep.

  And then she’d slipped away like a thief in the night.

  “That’s all I have.” Vargas looked at his watch. “Lunchtime.”

  Fiona stood. Jonah wasn’t looking at her; he studied his cup of coffee as if it were a new species of animal and he was charged with naming it.

  “Lunch?” She knew her voice cracked in the middle of the word, turning it into two syllables.

  “Sure.” He pushed his chair in. “Meet you downstairs in the garage.”

  And with that, he was gone.

  Fiona waited by the garage elevator. When it opened, he strode off, all business, his steps brisk and attitude chilly. She struggled to keep up with his long legs.

  “Jonah.”

  “No. Not until we’re well away from here.” He shook his head, though all she could see was the back of it. “Last time I said that… oh, wait that was last night, when…”

  “Stop. Don’t say it.” She glanced around to be sure no one was in the vicinity. A shifter would have no problem picking up what they said, even across the garage.

  He opened the car door for her. She got in, let him close it behind her. The slam of it made her lurch in her seat.

  Twenty minutes later, they were at Central Park, walking in the cold, making her realize just how unprepared she’d been for the New York temperatures. She hadn’t unpacked all her old clothing.

  Jonah pulled up short. “You have some explaining to do.” In winter’s chill, his breath left a white cloud between them.

  She studied a couple across from them, holding hands, completely immersed in each other. “I don’t know where to start.”

  “Let’s see. First of all. Why are you here? Why didn’t you tell me things last night? Why did you slip away without as much as a word? Why’d last night happen?” A laugh slipped out.

  A cold, derisive, mocking laugh that drove a knife into her heart.

  “Not that I don’t enjoy a fuck. Who wouldn’t, right?”

  “Don’t, Jonah. Please. Don’t.”

  “Don’t what?” His face was carved from stone, his countenance unyielding.

  “Don’t cheapen last night like that.”

  “Me? Cheapen it? I’m not the one who threw away everything we had. I’m not the one who ran out like a coyote last night.”

  “I. Did. Not. Cheapen. It.” She emphasized every word with openhanded strikes on his chest.

  He caught her hands. Didn’t release her. Stared down at her as if he could see into her soul.

  Once upon a time I could.

  A man approached. “What’s going on here? Miss, is he hurting you?”

  Jonah released her hands. Quickly, both of them flashed their badge at him.

  “Sorry, Officers. I wasn’t sure.”

  They nodded him away.

  Jonah locked eyes with her again. He and his bear used to be able to see into Fiona and her falcon’s souls.

  Her falcon shrieked a resounding question in Fiona’s mind. “What happened to your bear?”

  “Who said anything happened to my bear? And what happened to minding your own damned business?”

  “I’m not asking as your friend, Jonah. I’m not asking as your former lover, either. I’m asking as your AIC. The entire team depends on its members. If there is something going on with your bear, you need to tell me.”

  “Nothing.” He rubbed his jaw.

  “I’m responsible for the unit. If something’s wrong with your bear… it could endanger all of us during a case.”

  ***

  Jonah grimaced. How could he tell her? He’d lose his position with InterForce. He’d lose everything he’d worked his ass off for.

  Fiona’s phone buzzed. She made a face. “Vargas.”

  “The arms dealer we’ve been trying to get our hands on just surfaced.” She memorized the address he gave her. “The team will meet you there.”

  “Be right there.”

  She turned to Jonah. “This talk isn’t over.”

  “Damned straight, it’s not. You’ve left everything unanswered.”

  We both have. Except I won’t be able to tell you the things I want to.

  No, she couldn’t tell him. He’d hate her.

  Kinda like he hates me now.

  They pulled into the warehouse at the address Vargas gave her, to the sound of gunfire.

  A lot of gunfire.

  Jonah unsheathed his weapon. She took hers piece out too.

  “Ready?”

  Jonah didn’t answer her. Instead, he opened his door and darted out, behind a barrel.

  “Stay put,” she told him. She would slip around the other side of the building and shift into her falcon where she could reconnoiter and make an assessment. “No heroics,” she yelled, running around the building’s corner.

  Fiona shifted, becoming a falcon that was much smaller than a human, but still larger than the average falcon. She took wing, flew over the car, above the warehouse, saw Jonah.

  Goddamn him.

  She’d told him to stay put. Of course, he didn’t.

  She swooped in, noted the position of the team, and ascertained there were no humans agents in the area.

  Thank the heavens, no Vargas. Until she figure out Jonah’s issue with his bear, she didn’t want anyone noticing his sudden lack of shifter abilities.

  Then she saw him.

  Jonah.

  And right behind him, a perp with an automatic weapon.

  Jonah’s bear should have picked that up. No one should have been able to get the jump on him. No one.

  Her falcon shrieked, the cry piercing the sky, hoping to give him warning. She reached for his bear, hoping to get the bear’s attention, to let it know Jonah was in the criminal’s sights.

  Jonah looked up, frowned.

  A burst of fire eclipsed all other sound.

  Suddenly, everything went deathly quiet in Fiona’s mind. She couldn’t hear anything.

  The perp released a series of rounds.

 
Jonah collapsed.

  Doherty stood watching. Smirk on his face.

  Another team member, Rice, shot the perp.

  And then Fiona’s eyes were riveted on Jonah.

  Jonah—unmoving.

  Jonah—with a pool of blood surrounding him.

  And the pool grew.

  And grew.

  Her falcon circled, over and over, almost unable to process or do anything else. Her falcon wouldn’t stop shrieking, but the bird’s cries had nothing on the screaming Fiona emitted in the bird’s mind.

  Chapter Six

  Fiona couldn’t have said how she got to the ground, or how she shifted, or anything. All she remembered was one moment she was airborne, circling and soaring above a blood-covered Jonah, the next, she was in her human skin standing over him, issuing orders to the team from a portion of her brain clearly able to work. She had no clue what part of her mind was able to function because her thoughts were a scrambled mess that refused to form cohesive ideas.

  Or so she thought.

  The team didn’t seem to notice, because none of them were treating her as if she was a babbling jumbled moron. They jumped to do her bidding, following orders to a tee, staunching the blood flow on a hurt Jonah.

  Jonah lay on the ground, pale, definitely not conscious. His eyes closed, his face not the dangerously angry man she’d seen the last twenty-four hours. He was the old Jonah, the one she’d wake up next to.

  Except she knew he wasn’t. Her falcon screamed at Fiona that he was dying.

  She turned to Rice, also a bear shifter, a grizzly. “Do we have a doctor? Someone who can help?”

  “Why would he need a doctor? He can simply shift and heal. We’ll get him back to his place, though I’m not sure why he’s unconscious. His bear should have been able to keep him up until he shifted into a hibernation heal.”

  Hibernation healing shifts—when a shifter was hurt, that shifter would turn to his animal spirit, shift, and fall into a deep sleep that would allow healing to take place.

  Rice’s question about Jonah needing a doctor was valid, but that shrill voice in the back of Fiona’s mind kept saying he needed a shifter doctor.

  Maybe her falcon was wrong. Maybe he needed to shift and heal. “Let’s get him home.”

  ***

  Jonah groaned. He was in his bed, a bed she’d slid out of a few hours ago. She hastily sent the rest of the shifters out before they noticed her scent on his sheets.

  The bleeding had stopped but she couldn’t awaken him to get him to shift. Something in her told her she couldn’t bring this up to the team. If they knew something was going on with Jonah’s bear, he could lose his position. She knew how much that mattered to him.

  Her falcon picked up his pulse. It was weakening. The situation went from dire to desperate.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  Jonah’s pockets had been emptied by one of the team members. She spied his phone on the nightstand and reached for it, hoping he hadn’t changed his password. She swiped the pattern across the glass screen and was rewarded with the unlocking of the screen.

  She crumbled, dying a little inside, when she saw the picture of the two of them together as his wallpaper. That was the last picture they’d taken. She had the same one on her phone. Shoving the emotions aside, because by damn, she needed to focus on the task at hand, she searched for Isaac’s number and pressed the icon, putting the phone to her ear.

  “What’s up, bro,” Isaac answered.

  “It’s Fiona.”

  “Okayyyy.” His tone carried uncertainty.

  No surprise there, since she and Jonah weren’t together anymore. Since she shouldn’t even have Jonah’s phone.

  “Jonah’s been hurt. I can’t get him to shift. I need your help. Or a doctor. Or something.”

  “I’ll be right there.” Isaac ended the call.

  Fiona stroked Jonah’s hair away from his face. “You need to wake up and shift.” She allowed three solitary tears to make their way down her cheek, one at a time, while she watched the love of her life.

  His pulse was even weaker.

  This isn’t happening.

  A knock sounded at the door.

  That was quick.

  She ran for the door, flinging it open.

  A woman stood before her. One she’d never seen.

  Ebony hair framed a pale face. Startling green eyes were guarded by black-spiked, mascara-laden lashes. A smile vanished from scarlet lips.

  “Who are you?” the woman said.

  Something about the woman’s voice—it had an ethereal hollow quality to it.

  Preternatural.

  What was she? The tiny feathers on the back of Fiona’s neck ruffled. “Who are you?” she asked the woman in the forest green peasant top.

  “I’m his…” The woman paused, looked behind Fiona, as if seeking Jonah, perhaps. “…his girlfriend.”

  “I’m his boss.” The words could barely come out from the chalkiness in Fiona’s throat.

  Why does he have a picture of us, yet a girlfriend?

  “Why don’t I know about you?” she asked the woman, not noticing right away that the woman edged her way around her and was now in the room.

  “Why don’t I?” Green eyes flashed as she stormed toward Jonah’s bedroom. “What’s wrong with him?”

  Fiona frowned. She wasn’t comfortable with this woman. And there was something about her that made alarms go off. Big time.

  The woman turned to look at her, supernatural eyes glowing.

  Then it hit Fiona. “You’re a witch. Why would he be around a witch?”

  “Only a witch can tell another witch. But you’re not one of the covens. No…” She studied Fiona. “But yes, oh, yes. You’re descended from witches.”

  Fiona bit back a reaction. Keeping her face stoic. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You should go.”

  “Maybe you should.”

  That’s fucking nervy. I bet I could take her. Unless she’s the kind that casts spells.

  “Who’s this?” Isaac stepped in the open front door, followed by Cadence. “What’s going on, Fi?”

  Fiona shrugged. “She said she’s his girlfriend.”

  “He doesn’t have a girlfriend. Hasn’t since…”

  He didn’t have to say it, she knew. He hadn’t had anyone since she left. It wasn’t surprising. She hadn’t had anyone either.

  She heard a growling grumbling sound, and realized it was Isaac’s bear, growling at the woman.

  “I’ll be across the street,” the emerald-eyed woman said to Fiona. “If you’d like to explore the matter further.”

  What the fuck? Why would I want to talk about her being a witch? I’m not a witch anyway. Not really. Not exactly.

  Panic set in. Panic and a serious desire to call her foster mother, Mae, who had adopted her when she was a homeless, little shifter, bound for the orphanage. Hence Fiona’s last name. She’d taken Mae’s.

  The woman turned to leave, then did a 180 and cast a piercing stare on Fiona. “You should call her. She will tell you I can help Jonah. He’ll die otherwise. You know what I’m saying. You know about his bear.” Her eyes turned from a vibrant green to a darker shade, almost black.

  “What the hell is she talking about?” Isaac said. “What’s she mean about my brother’s bear?”

  Fiona’s throat worked. Her tongue moved, but words refused to form and come out. How did the witch know?

  Isaac forged forward, Cadence as yet hadn’t said a word, her dark eyes absorbing everything. Fiona met Isaac’s new mate yesterday, but already she liked the spunky panther shifter.

  Fiona followed Isaac and Cadence into the bedroom, but she knew it was futile. She had no doubt there was nothing he could do.

  Isaac was checking his brother when Fiona’s falcon started to buzz in her mind, insisting she call Mae immediately.

  She hustled toward the front door and slipped out of Jonah’s apartment, so she could have privacy and took her p
hone out of her pocket.

  Mae answered on the first ring. “Fiona. Jonah’s in danger. You need to let Alannah help him.”

  “That’s the green-eyed witch’s name?”

  “Yes, she’s on your side. If there’s such a thing. Let’s say she will help you keep him alive.”

  Fiona trusted Mae—implicitly. She’d always trusted her. Mae had after all, been the closest thing to a mother she’d known. “What’s happened, Mae?”

  “His bear was taken by another witch. A curse was placed. Only another witch can remove it.”

  “I can’t have him learning—”

  “Fiona, what you do or don’t want him to know about your heritage takes a back seat to his health. That’s what you’re risking if you delay.”

  “I’d never put my secret above his life. I’ll get the witch.”

  “Alannah. Her name is Alannah Autumn. She’s your cousin, Fiona.”

  “I don’t accept that part of me.”

  “Take care of your mate” were Mae’s final words before she ended the connection.

  He’s not my mate. Not anymore. Not since I found out I’m a witch.

  Part witch her falcon reminded her.

  Right. Part witch.

  Fiona sprinted toward the stairway; she’d make better time running than waiting for an elevator.

  It was no secret there was no love lost between shifters and witches. Witches were not accepted among shifters, and mating between the two was never to happen.

  Shifter-witch unions typically ended in the mortality of all offspring, typically not making it out of the womb.

  Fiona was a rarity. It didn’t hurt that she wasn’t aware of her heritage until puberty.

  Puberty, when things went haywire. Mae took her to a specialist in the shifter world who’d told Mae what Fiona was.

  Fiona had been cautioned to keep it a secret.

  Fiona hadn’t taken it seriously.

  Until Jonah.

  Until the baby.

  Fiona shoved that train of thought aside. She had one mission now. One job.

  Keep Jonah living.

  Chapter Seven

  Fiona stepped quickly toward the coffee shop. She’d almost reached the front door when a hand snaked out of the alcove and seized her wrist.