A Christmas Spectacle to Bear

by Jennifer Hilt

  It was that time of year already. The carnie elements in Caleb’s life disgusted him. He had tried to put distance between himself and his past, but it kept creeping back. Still, the thought of Lea wearing body glitter, pasties, and a G-string was hard to dismiss.

  “Since when are you back in showbiz?”

  “Since I maxed out my credit card with my private investigator coursework. For a family-run detective agency, my brothers pay crap.”

  “They don’t want you to get hurt,” Caleb said. “Not that the S&S is any better.”

  Lea rolled her eyes. “Not you too. It’s like I’m stuck in some terrible 1950s time warp. There’s nothing wrong with Paddy’s. You worked there yourself not all that long ago, from what I heard.” She uncurled her legs from under her. Her slim feet, with bright red-polished toenails, rested next to him.

  “I do the occasional S&S show when I’m around. The extra money is good. My ed loans aren’t going away on their own. And there’s not a surplus of magicians this far north. It’s not the kind of thing I want to do forever though. I’m hoping this Christmas show is it. Paddy is pretty effective at reeling me back in since I live here. But you should go back to New York.” Caleb ate his stir-fry. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten home cooking. His diet of takeout these past few months had left him wanting more.

  Lea sipped her wine, ignoring him. He watched her smooth throat swallow. Annoying, and lovely.

  He set his empty plate on the floor and leaned his head back against the couch. Lea studied the screen intently and seemed to have forgotten he was there. Between eating, drinking a beer, and finally getting off his feet, Caleb relaxed. He wanted to be angry with Lea, but that was difficult. So many unexpected feelings

  She’d always known him better than anyone. As a kid, when he got in trouble for fighting, he’d find himself at her family’s back door. Hating himself for fighting, yet unable to stop himself, he half wished she’d turn him away so he could continue hating himself. At the same time, he hoped Lea of all people wouldn’t give up on him. She never did. She’d hand him a box of Band-Aids and say “Now that you’re here, we can make cookies. Mom won’t let me use the oven if I’m home alone.” If Caleb had a particularly hard day, Lea handed him her one-eyed cat, Felix, to hold until the rage inside him quieted.

  He rubbed his jaw, pulling his thoughts back to the present.

  Without thinking, Caleb drew his index finger along the sole of Lea’s bare foot. She wiggled her toes but didn’t pull away. He traced his finger around her ankles and up her heel. A light ripple of goose bumps followed his touch. Her skin fascinated him.

  This was Lea. Part of him wanted to run away. Another part of him wanted to run his tongue along her instep, then leisurely up her slim calf muscles. He could taste her from head to toe, then they could fuck each other’s brains out. He bent his head.

  “Back to me needing your help.” Lea clicked the TV off.

  He rolled his head against the back of the couch, trying to reset his brain. What the hell was the matter with him? “I don’t know squat about showgirls.”

  Lea snorted. “That’s not what I heard.”

  Damn the Riley brothers and their big mouths. Of course, they’d have had nothing to say if he hadn’t opened his trap in the first place.

  “What do you want?” he said.

  “I need an autopsy.”

  Caleb rose from the couch, leaving his plate on the floor for Elvis. He headed for the kitchen. For the record, it wasn’t autopsy talk making his cock dance a little jig. That was Lea. Thankfully, the kitchen counter was the right height for camouflage. It’d been a long four months.

  Lea rolled over onto her stomach, taking over his vacated spot, and propped her head on the couch. Her eyes tracked him in the kitchen. “Paddy’s got a dead elf in his storage shed. I need to figure out what killed him.”

  Caleb drained the beer bottle.

  Fuck.

  Nothing was going right tonight. He tossed his bottle toward the sink, but his aim was off. The neck hit the edge, shattering the glass. Like an idiot, he reached, too late to catch it, slicing his thumb on the jagged edge. “Dammit.” Blood ran in a red seam down his arm.

  “Are you okay?” Lea was beside him in an instant. She flicked the faucet on. Caleb grabbed some paper towels and raised his injured hand over his head to slow the blood flow, using his other hand for pressure.

  She reached up. “Let me see.”

  Caleb pulled away. “I’ve got it. Give me more wet paper towels.”

  “Let me see,” she persisted.

  “I’m the doctor, remember?” Her head only came up to his shoulder. How could she be related to hulking Tommy?

  Lea jumped up, swatting his hand down. She pulled it under her arm and held it over the sink. “Sucker. I played basketball with my brothers.”

  His body was pressed up against Lea’s while she scrutinized his hand.

  “Don’t be such a baby,” she chided. She kept his hand trapped between her arm and her side when he tried to pull away, and then she wrapped his thumb in a fresh damp paper towel.

  Enough was enough.

  He tugged at his arm, spinning her around, and pinned her arms on either side of her body against the sink. Which throbbed worse was a toss-up: his thumb or his cock.

  “Paddy was wrong to involve you in whatever he’s mixed up in. Let the police handle it. This isn’t a game.” He was very aware that his lower body was flush against hers.

  Murder at the casino. Christ. She could get hurt or killed playing detective. Caleb pressed his pelvis against her.

  Lea flexed back against him.

  Her eyes widened. “I knew it! My man problems are all your fault.” She dropped her hand to his jeans, giving him a squeeze. “Your cock is hard.”

  Of course his cock was hard. Being this close to her, it was only going to get harder. God, her fingers felt divine. Now if they could just get rid of some layers of clothing. Wait . . . were they talking about murder?

  Lea’s fingers gave him a pinch. “Which brings me to another mystery. Why is it that you are the first guy in four months who has an erection around me?”

  By some circulatory miracle, his blood immediately stopped draining to his cock. Instead it rushed back to up his brain, giving him a pounding headache.

  “What are you doing with other guys’ cocks?” He shook his head in frustration, trying to clear his thoughts.

  “We never discussed being exclusive.” She pushed away from him, then turned halfway around and dropped the blanket covering her shoulder. She tugged her cami shoulder strap down. “Tell me, what the fuck is this?”

  On her right shoulder blade, under the lightest dusting of freckles, was his ice-bear paw print.

  Sweet Jesus.

  He’d claimed her.

  She tapped it with her fingertip. “This is what’s causing all the trouble, right?”

  Can’t.

  Won’t.

  Caleb’s fingers brushed her skin. The mark flared under his touch. “It looks like a tat.” Shame, lust, pride, longing—every emotion he’d felt when he thought of Lea in the last four months crowded his brain.

  “Yes, but it’s not a tat, is it? It’s some kind of hex?”

  “But you’re not a shifter. It’s not possible.”

  “I’m not a wolf shifter like my brothers.”

  A terrible dawning unfolded inside Caleb.

  Not a wolf shifter like my brothers.

  He whispered. “What are you?”

  “Stop freaking out. It’s not like I’m a vamp. I’m a bird shifter.”

  Caleb stared.

  “Dove species.” She waved her arms to simulate flight.

  “How did I not know this?” he said dumbly.

  “My psycho brothers swore me to secrecy. Being a pack of big bad wolves, they were afraid for me. I started shifting in high school, like you guys, but it’s not such a big deal to shift into a bird. And it turns out a dove
is an amazing surveillance agent with my miniature camera.” Her eyes narrowed. “But me being a dove has nothing to do with you explaining why the fuck I have this thing on my shoulder.”

  “How do you know it has anything to do with me?”

  Lea shook her head. “You really want to go there? One, it appeared several days after the last time we were together. And two, it’s impossible to get a male human to look at me, let alone fuck me. It’s like I’m in a convent.”

  “You’re exaggerating—”

  “Except for you,” Lea said grimly. “Trust me, on more than one occasion my touch has turned a throbbing cock into something suddenly resembling lunch meat.”

  “What the fuck are you doing touching stranger’s cocks?” Caleb demanded.

  “OK, because I’m an independent woman in the twenty-first century, I’m not going to dignify that with a remark. Now reverse whatever charm or hex you cast on me, and maybe in fifty years I’ll forgive you. If you’re lucky.”

  “It’s a claim mark. Ice bear shifters use it to claim their mates.” His eyes strayed to her shoulder again. She’d moved so he couldn’t see the mark anymore, but he didn’t need to. Suddenly much of his turmoil over the last few months made sense.

  “What do you mean ‘claimed’ me? Like luggage?”

  This was awkward—and yet embarrassingly accurate, especially if one selected his luggage to last for eternity.

  More serious yet was that Caleb had no memory of it. Sure, he remembered their being together and his thinking this would be the last time because his training was finishing up. He’d savored the time with Lea, but it was never meant to be a serious thing. He had always assumed the claiming rite would be a little more formal.

  Then again, the whole ice-bear shifting thing routinely shattered his world. Why should this be any different?

  “I didn’t even know I’d done it. I sure as hell don’t know how to remove it.” He ran a hand through his hair.

  Lea flushed. He could sense panic building in her. Now that they were back in contact and he’d touched where he’d claimed her, it was as if an invisible current ran between them.

  “Now we each have a mystery to solve. You’re going to find out how to remove this thing. I’m only in Icy Cap until Christmas, and then this New York City girl is getting back to Brooklyn.”

  “Ice bear shifters aren’t medieval. Mistakes happen. Of course this can be fixed. I just need to find out how.”

  Lea frowned, doubt etched across her features. “Is it because we’re shifters but not the same kind?”

  “I don’t know,” he said honestly.

  “Why’d you do it to begin with? You can’t run around claiming someone without their approval.”

  Apparently this was exactly what Caleb had done. He didn’t have answers for any of her questions. Worse, the longer he was around her the more the urge to touch her, hold her, kiss her distracted him.

  He made an inarticulate grunt. It was the best he could manage. Thoughts of Lea, their last time together, and now having her before him ran through his brain like a repeating movie.

  Lea snorted.

  “You haven’t had sex since our afternoon together?” He wanted to cheer, but that was not the expected response. He hadn’t had interest in any woman since Lea. There’d been possibilities, but they were never quite right. Having had no idea he’d claimed her, he’d put his preoccupation down to work.

  She’s yours. You claimed her.

  “Shifters! Always so dense. That was what I just said. In the meantime, when can you autopsy this elf Paddy locked in the prop shed?”

  Dammit. She wasn’t going to make this easy. He didn’t want to alarm her, but his ice bear wanted to rise. Badly.

  “That’ll have to wait for now. Go to your bedroom and lock the door, or in about thirty seconds I’m going to spread you across this kitchen counter,” Caleb said. He was torn between wanting to frighten her away from Icy Cap forever and wanting to sweep her into his arms. The memories and feelings of their last time threatened to drown him.

  Lea cocked her head in a gesture he could only describe as birdlike. She held his gaze, closing the space between them. Her arms slid around his back, her fingertips running up his tense muscles. Her hardened nipples pressed into his chest. She rose up on tiptoe to whisper, “I’ve known you since I was six. You used to fight my brothers if I told you they were bugging me. I’m not afraid of you. Besides, I don’t think the counter will hold us. It’s not made of marble like the one in New York.”

  She was thinking of it too.

  Sweet Jesus. How much could he take?

  “Lea, go,” he said, his voice low. “This is not a game. I’m doing everything I can to keep myself in control.”

  “We might as well make the best of it. That is, unless you’d like to go autopsy that elf now?”

  Caleb growled.

  “Just asking.” Lea laid her cheek against his chest, and he rested his chin on the top of her head. “Since it doesn’t look like this claim is going to be broken tonight, I have an idea you might like better than examining a dead elf.” Lea rubbed her body against his like a cat.

  His cock stiffened more.

  He needed release.

  Now.

  Caleb dropped his gaze to her chest, keeping his hands on either side of her.

  Lea guided his uninjured hand to her breast.

  His hand closed over it, and he ran his thumb across her nipple, his fingers cupping her fullness.

  He wanted her. He’d claimed her. She was his.

  He leaned in toward her.

  She wanted him. For now.

  “Time for bed,” Caleb said, pulling away from her and then hauling her over his shoulder. She was light; picking her up took almost no effort. He liked the feel of her soft body against his. He gave her ass a light slap.

  She tried to swat at his ass but couldn’t reach from her position flung over his shoulder. “Thank God. I’m sick of my vibrator.”

  Caleb pushed open her bedroom door, barely slowing until he dropped Lea onto the bed.

  “Good night.” He closed the door behind him, but not before catching sight of her mouth, open in surprise.

  Then Caleb did the only thing a sensible man would do in his situation.

  Run away.

  He’d stripped off his clothes before he was back at the front door. His ice bear was rising, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.

  Outside he sprinted down the steps naked, running for the edge of the trailer park. He rolled once, then again, barely slowing as shifted into his ice bear. Under his thick pelt, he relished the brisk temperature. The sea ice was calling him.

  Icy Cap was home, even if it’d taken Caleb a while to realize it. He was born a New Yorker, but he didn’t fit in there any longer. After living there for the first fifteen years of his life, he knew the city like an old friend. But as a teenager, when his ice bear began rising, he’d found even New York too confining.

  After finding the right foster family, he’d moved to Alaska but still visited New York every year. He’d told himself it was because he loved the city and the Riley brothers. But no more New York; Icy Cap was the perfect place for an ice bear shifter. His medical training was finished. Now he’d be in Icy Cap all the time instead of running around Alaska for different rotations.

  Learning to be a physician hadn’t been the challenging part. He’d always had an aptitude for school, even when he was getting in trouble. No, what had been difficult for him were the emotional challenges. He’d never formed close relationships outside of his foster family and the Rileys. And he’d crossed a line by carrying on an affair with their beloved youngest sister.

  These days, his ice bear craved solitude. He loathed dwelling on how he felt, yet he recognized that he’d be a better physician if he acknowledged his emotions. Most of the time he made it work. Roaming and hunting settled his soul. Sometimes he needed to shift and get out on the ice, like now. Not bad
for a former foster kid, to have figured all that out.

  Now a cluster of seagulls huddled together on the ice, and scattering them to the four winds was just what his ice bear needed. The gulls cried at his disturbance but resettled once Caleb dove into the Arctic sea. Seals darted away from him. A narwhal eyed him curiously before angling its single tusk and diving deep down to the depths.

  Hours later, Caleb climbed out of the sea. This time of year, the sun never inched beyond the horizon. The darkness didn’t bother him. His powerful paws bit into the ice as he shook his massive body. Seawater sprayed from his fur coat, forming icy pellets. He closed his eyes, relishing the wildness of life up here along the sea. His blood coursed, making him feel more alive and himself than he had in months of being in Anchorage.

  The wind direction shifted, and Caleb’s nostrils flared.

  He was not alone.

  Another ice bear charged across the sea ice toward him. Caleb couldn’t say he was sorry. He was spoiling for a good fight. Being near Lea made him pulse with anger, confusion, and desire. He was in the mood to spill some blood.

  Caleb let out a roar, rearing back on his hind legs. His opponent was larger, but Caleb didn’t let that deter him.

  The other ice bear’s pace slowed slightly. He pitched forward into a roll, his fur receding into human flesh. His transformation wracked his body. He swayed on his hands and knees before rising.

  Now, instead of a charging ice bear, a man stood naked before him in the snow.

  “Do me a favor, Caleb. Rip me apart.” A feral grin shot across his friend Derek’s face.

  Caleb’s ice bear pitched forward into a somersault shifting smoothly back to his human self. He finished and stood several feet from his friend.

  “Can’t quite let the performer go, eh?” Derek asked.

  Caleb tried to smile but his facial muscles felt stiff. It took him a few minutes after he shifted to fully transform from beast to man.

  The two men nodded at each other. They didn’t dare get closer than the six feet separating them. Even though they were friends, ice bear males tended to fight first and ask questions later. Their calmer humanoid heads were a vast improvement for communication, but each knew better than to push his luck. Their alpha ice bears were just below the surface.