Her Bear Protector [The Protectors 1] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Doris O'Connor

  A grim smile kicked up his lips, as he recalled how adorable she’d looked when she’d made that confession. Hair up in a loose ponytail her clothes spattered in orange, with a streak of the paint covering one cheek, she’d blushed a delightful crimson when he’d offered his help.

  “No, that’s quite alright. I know you’re busy.”

  “If you’re sure, but can I make a suggestion?” She’d shrugged her shoulders, sending more drops of paint through the air, and he hadn’t been able to resist teasing her a little.

  “Keep the paint on the car, Tina. You’re turning Mrs. Hastings’s roses into a rare shade of orange.”

  She’d spun round so fast she’d almost kicked over the paint pot, and Ronan had driven off chuckling to himself.

  “That’s not funny.” She’d called after him. Mrs. Hastings would kill me.”

  He’d grinned back over his shoulder, and he’d been sure he’d caught a Men in her mumbling to herself.

  With a deep sigh, Ronan rolled his shoulders and opened the door of her little monstrosity. She hadn’t locked it, he presumed in her haste to get inside and see him. He still recalled the minute he caught her scent in vivid, painful detail. He hadn’t wanted her to see him like this, but she’d been so concerned about him, so open to everything, even his transformation in front of her, things had progressed between them far faster than they ought to have done.

  Maybe that was all it was. Maybe she had finally reached breaking point, with all the information overload he had subjected her to? A man could drive himself insane with that kind of thought process, and besides, given a choice to redo the last few hours, he was damn sure he would do the same again. She had been so beautifully submissive, it made her rejection of who he truly was hurt like the fucking bitch.

  He frowned at the car keys left on her seat, pulled it back as far he could, and squeezed himself inside. His head hit the roof, and he swore at the dull pain. This wasn’t a car, it was a fucking pretzel maker, at least for a man his size. He pumped the accelerator pedal and turned the key, and nothing.

  Several attempts later her little orange steed, as she called it, sputtered into hesitant life, and he popped open the bonnet to investigate.

  As he would have expected it of her, the oil and water were all at the right levels, so that wasn’t the issue. Before he could investigate any further than the distributor cap and fiddle with the screw for the fuel mixture to get the car to run a bit smoother, her scent hit him straight in the gut.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Ronan? I told you to leave my car alone.”

  Oh she was so going to regret talking to him like that. His fingers itched to bend her over the bonnet of the car and smack that ass of hers until she whimpered. Foul language like that really didn’t suit his mate. The urge to do that, and to take her from behind while she still lay on this car, was almost too overwhelming to resist. However, he wasn’t a complete asshole and without her consent that would be nothing short of abuse. She was pissed off enough with him as it was.

  So, instead of acting on the images battering his brain, he took another deep breath, shut the bonnet, wiped his fingers clean on his jeans and turned round slowly to address her.

  Damn, even in his old clothes, which completely dwarfed her frame, she looked utterly stunning to him. Arms crossed under her unfettered breasts, she tapped one sandaled foot on the gravel in rapid staccato, and two high spots of color marred her cheek bones.

  If she was a shifter, she’d be close to shifting right now, and that thought made him grin despite the situation. Surely, for her to be this pissed off, she had to care about him, at least a little.

  His grin only seemed to infuriate her further.

  “Oh, just get out of my way, and let me drive home. I’ve had enough of this shit.” There was a suspicious wobble in her voice this time, and Ronan’s amusement fled. He grasped hold of her arm, as she tried to rush past him and pulled her in for a hug. She resisted at first, but went limp in his arms when he nuzzled into her neck.

  “Don’t, please, just don’t. I can’t do this right now.”

  Her small voice tore at his heart strings, and he reluctantly let her go.

  Tina scrambled into her car, adjusted the seat back, and slammed the door shut in his face. Then she tore out of his driveway with a spray of gravel, as though the hounds of hell were after her. He supposed he couldn’t blame her. Ronan started his Harley, pulled on his helmet, and followed at safe distance. He would make sure she got home safe, whether she liked it or not.

  * * * *

  Damn the blasted shifter. Why couldn’t he simply leave her alone? Any sane man would take the hint and let her cool off, but not Ronan. No, of course not. And what was worse, one touch from him, and she’d been about ready to sink into his embrace and forget all the things he’d said.

  Her heart slammed against her chest bone and adrenaline rushed through her system, when she took the corner too fast and almost lost control of her car.

  Shit, that had been way too close. There was a sheer drop of several feet on her side of the road. Concentrate, Tina, you don’t want to end up minced meat at the bottom.

  She gripped the steering wheel tighter, and headlights flooded her car. Yep, there he was, considerably closer than before, and she got the distinct impression, pissed as hell. No doubt she would endure another lecture about her driving. Not that he had any right to lecture her. No one did, and she would not give up her freedom for anyone, let alone an over-possessive bear shifter who killed for a living.

  Cold sweat broke out on her skin, as her imagination ran away with her. He had been so matter of fact when he’d explained it all, as though this was the most natural thing in the world. Maybe to him it was, but to her it most certainly wasn’t. In the space of a few hours, she’d found out that the man she loved…Fuck, yes, that’s why this hurt so much, she did love him. Tina punched the steering wheel in her frustration and swore.

  This so wasn’t fair. She finally found someone, who made her blood sing, and he had to be some goddamn shifter police. The rational side of her brain latched onto that last word. He’d said police. That meant he wasn’t simply some ruthless killer. Police killed when they had to, and maybe that’s all Ronan did, too.

  Then again that look in his eyes…

  Tina swiped the tears from her eyes and clenched her jaw. This was useless. What she needed was someone to talk to. An independent party, who would not judge her for her actions, and would simply listen to her, but who?

  By the time she finally pulled up in Mrs. Hastings’s driveway, she was a bundle of nerves. She’d barely made it out of her car, before Ronan shook her by the shoulders and rammed her against the side of it. The contact hurt, but not as much as the sheer fury in his eyes. His claws ran out, slicing through the fabric on her shoulders, and he grew taller still.

  “You stupid girl. Are you trying to kill yourself? Jesus, you’re a fucking menace on the road.” He shook her again with enough force to make her teeth rattle. Before her scrambled brain could come up with a suitable response, the flood lights came on and Mrs. Hastings’s cool, disapproving voice floated over to them.

  “Ronan Bernhard, you stop manhandling that girl right now. If that is your seduction technique it leaves a lot to be desired.”

  Ronan mercifully stopped shaking her, but he didn’t relinquish his hold on her. He simply turned his head and growled at Mrs. Hastings.

  Stood on her doorstep with only a shin shawl over her nightdress, Mrs. Hastings leant on her cane, and narrowed her eyes at them both.

  “Stop growling at me, boy. That’s rude, and for the last time let go of the girl, before I turn you into a toad.”

  “You wouldn’t fucking dare.” Ronan glared at her, and Mrs. Hastings shrugged her shoulders.

  “Don’t try me, boy. Let her go.”

  With a muttered curse, Ronan released her and stepped back, and Tina wasted no time in hurrying over to her. The old lady smiled a
t her and patted her hand. “You go in, dear, and put the kettle on. I’ll sort this big lout out.”

  Tina hung back behind her only long enough to hear Ronan groan.

  “You don’t understand, Mrs. Hastings, Tina is my mate and…”

  “I understand all too well, boy. This is not the way to woo her. This is what we’ll do, you’ll let…”

  The closing door shut out the rest of her words, and Tina ran to the kitchen. It faced the driveway and she could see Mrs. Hastings and Ronan engaged in some serious discussion. He was far from happy, but eventually, he got back on his Harley and roared away.

  The kettle she’d put on the Aga to boil, while watching the two of them outside whistled its readiness, and she poured the boiling water over the tea leaves. No newfangled tea bags for Mrs. Hastings. She believed in the good old days. She didn’t even have a television in the house, and listened to what she called the wireless instead. A radio for the less informed. She chose to spend her time tending her extensive herb garden and her roses were the envy of the village. Her kitchen, too, made Tina feel as though she had stepped back in time. Despite the late hour, the welcoming smell of freshly baked bread filled the air and mingled with the aroma of the many dried and drying herbs that hung off the wooden beams of her cottage. As ever the rabbit foot hung by the door gave Tina the shivers, and her mind started to whirl ten to the dozen.

  What had she said to Ronan? She would turn him into a toad? Her hands shook as she held the sieve to strain the tea leaves and she jumped when Mrs. Hastings’s arthritic fingers closed over hers. For a woman of her age she sure moved quietly. Then again the blood rushed so loudly in her ears, Tina might have missed a herd of elephants trampling by. Was nothing and no one in this village who or what she first thought them to be?

  “Sit down, child, before you fall down. You look as though you’ve seen a ghost, not a dumb-ass grizzly bear.” Mrs. Hastings chuckled softly and Tina sat down with a thump on the kitchen chair.

  “You knew about him?” she asked.

  “Of course I did, child.”

  “Why the hell—”

  Mrs. Hastings spun round and her disapproving glare made Tina amend that statement.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  The older woman didn’t reply straight away. She finished preparing the tea in swift, practiced movements, and sat down at the table, too. She slid Tina’s steaming mug across to her and took a cautious sip of her own mug.

  “Ah, that’s better. Nothing quite like a good cup of tea to make the world seem brighter.”

  She smiled at Tina, and put her cup down slowly.

  “As to why I didn’t tell you, that’s simple really. Ronan Bernhard’s story wasn’t mine to tell. Did I know you were his destined mate? Of course I did. Why else would I have encouraged you to come to this village? You two are meant to be. It’s fated thus.”

  Tina swallowed nervously around the huge lump in her throat. This whole thing was getting more surreal by the minute.

  “What do you mean encouraged me? I came here of my own free will. How could you have encouraged me? I don’t understand what you mean.”

  The unsettled feeling creeping up from the base of her spine told Tina that she understood all too well. Naturally, if shifters existed, why not witches. Well, she knew witches existed, but she always thought it was a harmless religion not associated with someone who could actually influence the surroundings around her.

  Oh, God, Mrs. Hastings is a witch!

  Said witch smiled, took another sip of her tea, and regarded Tina thoughtfully.

  “I can tell you’re jumping to all sorts of conclusions in your head, there, girl. Some of them may well be right. Others less so.”

  “You’re a witch, right.” Tina barely managed to get the words out as the room spun and she felt faint. Really how many shocks could one girl take in the course of half a day? This was insane.

  “You make that sound as though it’s an insult, girl.” Amusement laced Mrs. Hastings’s words mixed in with faint annoyance. “And breathe, Tina. You’re going to faint otherwise. There is no need to get yourself all worked up. Despite what you heard me say to Ronan, I have no desire to turn anyone into a toad. Apart from anything else that is so cliché.”

  She winked at Tina, and there was the most devilish gleam in her blue eyes, as she took another sip of her tea.

  “Drink it, Tina. It’s a new blend I’m perfecting, and I must say it’s rather nice.”

  Tina looked at her cup as though it might contain poison. So much for her thinking it was ordinary tea. She should have known. There was nothing ordinary about Mrs. Hastings, or this village she’d adopted as home, it seemed.

  “What’s in it?” she asked, and Mrs. Hastings smiled.

  “So suspicious all of a sudden, child. I’m beginning to see why Ronan was so rattled. It’s most unlike him, I have to say, but then finding one’s mate tends to rattle a man somewhat, yet he hasn’t marked you, I see. At least not with his teeth.”

  She chuckled to herself, and Tina brought her hand up to the side of her neck. Tender flesh greeted her. Damn the man. She would have to wear a scarf to the Fete tomorrow to cover up that love bite.

  “Keep him out this, and what is in that damn tea?” She did her best to glare at Mrs. Hastings but the disappointment she saw in her kind gaze meant she burst into tears instead. Mrs. Hastings reached across the table and patted her hand.

  “There, now, dear. Let it all out. I don’t blame you for being overwhelmed. Knowing what those shifters can be like, I dare say he went about all of this like the proverbial bull in a china shop, right? And for your information, there is nothing in that tea to harm you. It’s simply a blend made to soothe the nerves, and help you sleep. I wasn’t at all surprised that you picked that urn out of all the ones available. Your spirit knows what you need, even if you choose to fight it.”

  Tina swiped the useless tears away, and took a sip of the tea. Flavors exploded on her tongue and she took a deep breath in to inhale the fragrance. Instantly she felt calmer, whether because her mind was playing tricks on her, or it was indeed the tea causing the effect, who knew. Tina didn’t much care right now, and she took another sip. The liquid slid down her throat like honey, and soothed her churning stomach.

  “There, now, I told you it would help,” Mrs. Hastings said. “Feeling a bit calmer and a tad more rational now, my dear?” she asked.

  Tina had to laugh at that. A slightly hysterical laugh for sure, but, really, was there anything rational about this whole fucked up mess.

  “Rational? You tell me what about this whole thing is rational. You’re a witch. Ronan is a shifter, who kills vampires. Vampires for pity’s sake. What’s next? The postman is really a unicorn?”

  Mrs. Hastings smiled and shook her head.

  “No, dear, Paul is a duck.”

  Tina choked on her next mouthful of tea, and after much coughing and splattering finally got the words out of her mouth.

  “Did you say duck? As in go and feed the ducks on the pond, duck?”

  “Don’t be silly, my dear. The ducks on the pond are simply ducks. And besides Paul very rarely shifts these days. The smaller shifters don’t seem to feel the need to shift as much as the larger species.”

  Tina just stared at her.

  “Smaller shifters? Can anything shift into a man?”

  Mrs. Hastings shook her head, and pursed her lips.

  “He really didn’t explain this very well, did he? Typical man. Too busy fucking you no doubt.”

  Tina’s mouth dropped open in pure shock at hearing Mrs. Hastings cuss like that.

  “Don’t look so shocked. I was young once and married to a wolf shifter. Trust me, they are even more territorial and overbearing than bears can be, or at least, my Henry was.” A small smile played around her lips as she seemed lost in her past. “The rows we had. Mind you the make-up sex was the best, as I’m sure you’ll discover soon.”

  She winked at h
er and Tina finally shut her mouth.

  “I have no intention of having sex with the man ever again, I can assure you.”

  “Ach, poppycock. Of course you will. Tell me you don’t melt when he as much as looks at you, let alone touches you. By all means be mad at him, make him suffer a bit, as he no doubt deserves it, but we both know that you will not be able to stay away from him for long. You love the man, after all, don’t you?”

  Mrs. Hastings leant back in her chair with a rather satisfied expression on her face, when Tina didn’t answer her. Really, what could she say to that? Every word Mrs. Hastings had said was the truth after all, and she couldn’t lie to the woman who had shown her nothing but kindness since her arrival in the village.

  Tina slumped in her chair instead and drank the rest of her tea. A comfortable silence fell between them.

  “What happened to your Henry, if you don’t mind me asking?” Tina finally said. “Ronan said shifters live longer lives than humans and they’re immune from diseases, so—”

  “He was killed by one of those blood-sucking leeches.” Mrs. Hastings interrupted her, and stomped her walking stick on the floor in a rare display of temper. “So, if Ronan managed to take some of the fuckers out last night, then more power to him. I haven’t met a decent vampire yet. I’m sure they exist, but they sure as hell don’t survive long. After Henry’s death I certainly felt like going on a killing spree.”

  Goosebumps broke out on Tina’s skin at the quiet vehemence behind those words.

  “Why didn’t you?” she asked, and Mrs. Hastings sighed.

  “It would go against everything I believe in. An harm none, that is something we white witches live by, despite what you will read in popular fiction. It falls to the protectors to seek revenge, to keep us all safe. It’s a dangerous and lonely life, but we are all so very grateful for them.”