Bear Fire: Bear Shifter Paranormal Romance (BBW) (Pine Ridge BBW Bear Shifter Paranormal Romance Series Book 4) (2 page)

“I’m Barb, hon,” she said. “Want to
join us?”

“For darts or beer?” Jackie said.

“Why do you have to choose?” said
the tall man beside Barb. He leaned into her and wrapped an arm around her. The
policewoman leaned back into him, and Jackie was touched by the love she felt
between them. It was something she knew she would never experience, and a pang
of sadness rose in her. Quickly she shoved it down.

“Never mind,” she said. “I’m not in
the mood.” In case they had taken offense at her tone, she added hastily, “I
just … it’s … complicated. I would like to, I just can’t.” She cast a look at
Matt, hoping he would throw her a lifeline.

He was watching her with interest.
The amused look in his eyes had left him, replaced by a strange sort of seriousness.
Like he was studying her or something.

“Can I have a word?” she asked him.
“I mean, in private?”

Chapter 2

Matt had never seen a girl like Jackie, that was for sure.
All city-tough and street-smart, but with something behind that. Something mysterious
and deep. Something that intrigued him.

Plus he loved the way her black
jeans hugged the curve of her hips. She wore a black T-shirt under her black
leather jacket, but even though the jacket hid her bosom he could tell it was
just as generous as her hips. But what really captured him about her were her
eyes: green and deep and mystical. Maybe even a little haunted.

Staring into them, his bear gave a
low, mournful grunt inside him, and Matt had to cover his surprise by clearing
his throat. What had
that
been about?
His bear had never made a sound like that before. It had been a sad sound, but
not, he thought, because this woman made him feel sad but because it made him
realize he had
been
sad. Until now,
that is. As if he’d just been waiting for her to come along.

Which was ridiculous.

Frowning, he allowed Jackie to lead
him into a quiet corner of the tavern. She studied him with those strange green
eyes and said, “I need a favor, Matt.”

“Better be a good one,” he said. “I
was on a winning streak, and that’s rare when you’re playing Rick. He’s as
lucky as he is annoying.”

“I need to get to this address.”
She passed him a slip of paper, and he scowled down at it. “Can you get me
there? I’m new in town,” she added, as if he hadn’t figured this part out. “I
don’t know where it is, and I don’t feel comfortable traveling by myself.”

“And you feel comfortable with me?
I could be some nut.”

Her eyes roved up and down him, and
he liked the way they lingered on his chest, then hastily switched to his face.
“I trust you,” she said. “Plus, I’ll pay you for it. How’s two hundred dollars
sound?”

“To take you ten blocks? You don’t
need to pay me, darlin’.”

“It’s Jackie. And I need to. It
could be …”

“Yeah?”

“Dangerous.” She glanced at the
floor as she said it, as if she couldn’t bear to meet his eyes.

He wanted to reach out and tilt her
face up with his hand, but he thought that might alarm her. She seemed jumpier
than a live wire in a hurricane.

“Well, in that case,” he said, “I
really
won’t take your money.”

The air seemed to go out of her. “What
about for three hundred? I don’t have any more. At least, that isn’t committed
elsewhere.”

He chuckled. “Hon—I mean Jackie—if
you’re in trouble it would be wrong to take money to help you out of it. I’ll
do it for nothing.”

Her eyes got ridiculously huge.
Again he had to stop himself from reaching out to her. She just looked too
adorable.

“You’re kidding, right?” she said.
When he shook his head, she said, “Wow. I really am in the sticks. I mean—” she
blinked rapidly “—people don’t do stuff like that in the city.”

He didn’t take offense. “What city
you from, exactly?”

She sort of smiled, but it was an
ironic smile. “
The
city. New York.”

He whistled. “You’re a long way
from home, girl. Er, Jackie.”

“Don’t I know it.”

“What brought you up into the
Rockies on a cold spring night?”

“There’s no time to explain.
Please, just get me to that address.”

He crossed his arms across his
chest and stiffened his back. “I’ll help you, and I won’t take any payment. But
you will tell me what all this is about.”

She groaned in impatience. “Fine,
Matt. But I’ll tell you on the way. Let’s go.”

Her impatience was infectious.
Suddenly realizing that she really
might
be in danger—actual physical danger—and that it might catch up to her if he
dallied too long, Matt uncrossed his arms. Finally he reached out and gently
gripped her hand. She gasped and started to draw away, then didn’t.

“Come with me,” he said, and tugged
her toward the door. After a quick, suspicious glance at the shadows all
around, as if just to be sure her enemies weren’t sneaking up on her, she
followed.

He grabbed his jacket, which hung
by the door, and shrugged it on. Turning, he waved goodbye to his friends,
letting them know he was taking off, and they waved back. A few wore curious
expressions. Ignoring them, he shoved the door open and held it for Jackie.

“Wait a minute,” she said once they
were outside, the cold wind whipping about them. She stepped forward, scanning
the dark parking lot tensely. He got the impression she was making sure someone
wasn’t lying in wait here, too. Just who the hell was after her, anyway?

When she seemed satisfied, she
said, “Okay. Let’s move.”

He brought her to his pick-up (Big
Bertha, whose bright red colors were muted at night) and opened the passenger
door for her. He didn’t miss her eye-roll when she saw his jacked-up tires.
Huh
, he thought.
City girl
. He slid behind the wheel, started the engine and
switched on the heat. The cold didn’t bother him much, but he could tell from
the way she shivered and rubbed her hands that it was getting to her.

“So what’s all this about?” he said
as he eased the truck out onto the road and headed in the direction of the west
side of town, where the address had indicated.

She didn’t answer at first, and he
cast her a glance. She seemed to be debating something.

“Well?” he pressed. “We had a
deal.”

She let out a long sigh. “Well, this
is Pine Ridge, right? There are a lot of shifters around, so you probably know
a little about the paranormal, right?”

He smiled. “I know a little.”

“Well, I happen to be in possession
of something that’s a little … magical.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Magical?
Really?”

“Yeah.”

“‘In
possession’,”
he repeated, tasting the words. “Somehow that strikes me as
an interesting phrase.” Hazarding a guess, he said, “Did this item originally
belong to you?”

Her eyes swiveled to him, then back
to the road. “You won’t narc on me?”

“Why would I?”

“I saw that woman you were hanging
around with, back at the bar. She was a cop.”

He crossed a finger over his heart,
then put it back on the wheel. “I won’t narc on you, Jackie-girl. That woman
was Barbara, a friend of mine. The mate of another friend. She’s cool.”

“She’s a cop,” Jackie said, and her
voice carried a hint of finality.

Matt grunted. “So you’re a thief or
something?”

She straightened her back. “A cat
burglar, actually.”

“Same diff.”

“That’s like saying a high school
B-Team player is the same as a pro-baller.”

He laughed. “You follow football?”

Somewhat primly, she said, “I was
trying to use an example you would understand.”

“Don’t patronize me, girl,” he
said, intentionally not using
Jackie
.
At the same time he took a turn somewhat sharper than he needed to. He smiled
when he heard her swear under her breath.

She clipped her seatbelt on and
turned to glare at him. “Anyway, I am not just a thief. I’m a pro. And I only
steal from bad guys. I don’t take stuff from honest people. From good people. Only
villains. And I have a … specialty.”

“Oh?”

“I only steal magical items.
Sometimes from shifters that use them to enhance their powers, sometimes from
regular folk who use them to control others, or curse them, or whatever. Every
now and then I’ll take something from a mage that I think’s gotten out of hand
and is doing bad things with it.”

“A
mage
?” Matt chuckled. “Like a wizard?”

“It’s not funny.”

“It’s a little funny. You steal
from Gandalf!”

She narrowed her eyes at him; he
could see it out of the corner of his vision. “I do not steal from good guys,
remember,” she growled. “The correct analogy would be Saruman. The evil wizard
that betrayed Gandalf. And we don’t call them wizards, we call them mages. No
pointy hats or robes.”

He made another turn, mulling on
it. The town scrolled by to the either side, dark and silent. There was still a
layer of snow on the ground, and smoke curled up from countless chimneys. Most
people still hunkered in their homes, curled up on their beds and couches,
waiting for warmer weather. He and Jackie must be crazy to be out on a night
like this about some crazy errand involving wizards. He could see the freezing
wind shake the pine trees to either side of the road, even feel it press
against the truck.

At last he said, “So this item you
… er, stole. It’s from a mage?”

“Not originally. No. But it was in
the possession of a very bad dude, a mage named Walsh.”

“
Walsh
? That’s not a wizard name! He should have a name like … I
don’t know, like Luvoticus or something.”

“Shows what you know. Besides, he
travels in the upper echelons of New York society. I think they’d raise their
eyebrows at—what was it?—Luvothorot.”

“Luvoticus. Keep up.”

“Whatever. Mages haven’t come out
of the closet like shifters have. They’re not supposed to exist, and they want
to keep it that way. So whatever he used to be called, it’s Jonas Walsh now.
Patron of the arts and philanthropist.”

Matt considered. “If that was all
he did, I take it you wouldn’t have stolen from him. Which means he must be up
to no good. Is that right?”

He could hear the hatred in her
voice when she answered: “He’s a villain of the highest order, Matt. And he’s
very powerful.”

A sudden blast of worry shook Matt,
and he had to struggle to throw it off. It was just the dark, he told himself. Just
the cold. And all this talk of spooky stuff.

“So you stole something from a
powerful, evil wizard, and now he’s after you, is that about right?” Matt said.

“Yes. I think he’ll have sent his
goons after me first, to track me down, maybe corner me and hold me. Then he’ll
show up and take back what I stole. And …”

“Yeah?”

“Punish me.” She shuddered, and his
shifter senses picked up the smell of fear coming off of her. It was rank.

And infectious. She really believed
this Walsh guy was bad news. Her utter certainty was starting to get under
Matt’s skin.

“Don’t worry,” he said, with more
confidence than he felt. “I’ll protect you.”

“You? Why would you do that for
me?”

Matt’s bear growled inside him.
Shifting uncomfortably, he said, “It’s the right thing to do. Anyway, here we
are.”

He made the last turn and slowed,
reading the numbers on the houses. He was going the right way. The houses to
either side were huge and dark, most hidden behind high walls and broad
grounds. This was a rich part of town, one he didn’t normally go into.

“Just who are you meeting here,
anyway?” he said.

“There!” she said, pointing to an
ornate stone mailbox, evidently reading the address off it. “That’s the one.”

Matt parked at the curb.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Instead of doing that, though, she
stared out at the darkness, then flicked a glance at the truck’s air vents.

“I know, right?” he said. “It was
just starting to get a little toasty in here, and now we have to go out again.
Oh, well, I guess your friend will have the heat on. Just who
is
he?”

Jackie still didn’t answer. Visibly
bracing herself, she shoved the door open and leapt down to the sidewalk.
Snorting, Matt climbed down and joined her. She was stabbing a button at the
gateway. A high brick wall surrounded the estate, and the only way Matt could
see in—other than the larger gateway for the driveway—was this smaller gateway
for foot traffic. A sidewalk led through it across the grounds all the way up
to the front door of the mansion.

“Damn it,” Jackie said, when no one
buzzed them in. “What’s taking him so long?”

“Taking who so long?”

“Bryan Tannenbaum. He’s a mage,
too. A
good
mage,” she added. “We had
an appointment at the bar, but he didn’t show up. Instead he sent someone to
send me here. He hadn’t given me his home address, and it must have been listed
under a different name, because I couldn’t find it when I searched for his
house online, just in case. He’s obviously very careful, so he must be really
freaked if he asked me to meet him at his home. Here, help me over the wall.”

“You want to break in?”

She shivered and rubbed her hands.
“Well, I don’t want to stay out here all night, that’s for sure. And I am a cat
burglar. It’s kind of what we do. And if you don’t want to help, fine. I can
get up myself. Just don’t call the fuzz on me.”

He had to smile. ‘Fuzz’. Where’d
you learn your slang from,
Hill Street
Blues
?”

“Hill what? Never mind.”

She reached out a hand to the wall,
searching the brick face for irregularities. Finding one, she nimbly pulled
herself up, then grabbed the top of the wall and swung herself onto the broad
surface up there. Matt stared up at her, frowning. Should he follow? This was a
bit out of his line. Still, he couldn’t help but feel that she was still in danger.
She might need him before this was done.

“Well?” she said. “You coming? If
not, it was nice to know you, Matt Whatever Your Last Name Is. Have a good
life.”

He narrowed his eyes. Stifling a
curse, he, with less grace, fumbled a handhold and hauled himself up, then
joined her on the top of the wall. They were face-to-face now, and he noted the
gleam in her eyes and the flushed look of her cheeks. She was starting to come
alive, he realized, in a way she hadn’t before. She
lived
for this stuff. Or maybe it just put her mojo back. Fear had
driven it away before, but now daring and intrigue—and her competence at those
two things—had restored it.