Called by the Bear 4-6 (13 page)

C
arly

T
he aroma
of blueberry muffins fills the kitchen when I remove them from the oven. Sierra nudges me aside and extends her bear claws to remove the hot pastry from the pan without burning herself.

I grab my plate and walk to the kitchen table. “Handy trick.”

Sierra slides her sketchpad over and places her dish on the table with a thump. “I’ve got more up my sleeve.” She winks at me. “Get it?”

I smirk at her bad pun. We’re trying to come up with a name for our tattoo parlor and have resorted to plain silliness.
“Wait. How about Grin and Bear It?” Sierra giggles. Bangor, Maine isn’t exactly Venice Beach, where we both used to work, but with the college nearby we’re bound to have some business.

“I still like Barely Inked best.” I snort. “But the Right to Bear Tattoos is up there.” I laugh along with Sierra. We may not have gotten very far with our business idea, but this is the most fun we’ve had together in a long time.

Our laughter can’t be contained, and when we finally recover we have to wipe tears from our faces. It’s good to see my friend release some of the tension since her wedding, where she received Victor’s cruel gift.

Sierra reaches over for the teapot and says, “You know, we can do this by appointment only and keep our hours sane. There’s no reason we have to be open late at night or have twelve-hour days.”

Amber-pink liquid trickles into her cup, and I nod. “Agreed. This is supposed to be fun for both of us. We can have a killer website and should do just fine once the word gets out with the werebears.”

Sierra takes a sip of her drink and grimaces. Donna has her drinking the pregnancy tea, and she doesn’t like it any more than I did. She says, “That, and once people see your work, they’ll be booking us solid. I bet you’re famous around here too.”

I know she’s talking about how I was known for inking sensitive male parts. I have no interest in doing that again and wouldn’t put Brady in a position to feel the least bit uncomfortable about my work. “Yeah, well that fame isn’t going to work out so well.”

“Oh no, I wasn’t talking about dick pricking.” Sierra grins at me. “You were famous for more than that.”

I shrug because I’m not so sure my fame as Al Cutler’s daughter travelled all the way to the East Coast. “Why don’t we come up with a menu of services, and then it won’t be an issue.”

“Good idea. I’ll work on researching what’s available around here right now and we can work out a plan. Do we know anyone that can design a website for us?”

I shake my head. “I can’t think of anyone, but I bet Annie might.”

I reach over and grab the sketch pad Sierra brought with her to look at what she’s been drawing. She gets up to use the bathroom while I flip through the pages. As I get deeper into the book, the images begin to get darker in theme. Female warriors with fierce faces have daggers and sharp talons.

When my friend returns I glance up at her. “Wow, got a little aggression to get rid of?”

She nods, and the muscles in her jaw tighten. “Yeah, I’m tired of being Victor’s prey. If he comes for me again to get to my babies, I plan to fight.”

Guilt washes over me. “Sierra, I—”

“Don’t say it. We’ve been over this, and I would have been pissed if you had tried to save me. If you had been taken again I don’t think I...”

Her voice cracks, and I reach out to take her hand. It’s trembling. The truth is Brady would have locked me up if I had tried, but it doesn’t take away the feeling that I should have been the one to rescue her.

My eyes tear up. This woman sacrificed herself as a sex slave to keep me safe. “You’re the bravest person I know. I don’t deserve you.”

Sierra starts crying. “Stop right there. If I had been the one shot and in a cage with the future of the clans in my belly, you would have done the same thing.”

Tears come for me too. I’d like to think I would have done the same, but it doesn’t discount my best friend’s courage. A low growl rumbles through me as I imagine what I’d like to do to Victor.

I hug her. “I love you like a sister, Sierra. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“And I love you the same way. Stop kicking yourself over this. Just think, if Ashton hadn’t rescued me, I may have never found my true mate.”

I sniff as I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “The next time we deal with the Veilleux, I’m in.”

“Deal.”

Sierra’s eyes flash as she sets her jaw in what I know is determination. “Any word on how Victor managed to get the baby rattle sent to me?”

I shake my head, watching her splay her hands on the table evidently struggling with the urge to shift. I’m not used to my best friend being so angry. But living with the fear of your ex-captor wanting to steal your children is a darn good reason. Victor made his intentions loud and clear when he sent Sierra a sterling silver baby rattle engraved with the letter V on her wedding day.

A section of my living room is set up as a home gym, and I say, “Hey. Let’s go work out. I think there’s a punching bag you need to destroy.”

Sierra nods as she stands. “Sorry, this pregnancy has my emotions all over the map.”

She’s already in yoga pants, and I watch as she unbuttons a man’s shirt to reveal a tank top underneath. Her pregnant belly is prominent, and it occurs to me that Sierra won’t be safe if it’s only the two of us in our tattoo shop. I know she hates the idea of a bodyguard and has opted to stay on Le Roux land just to avoid one. But no way am I letting Victor get close to her. I will take any precautions necessary.

Dishes clatter as we put our teacups in the sink. I say, “You go ahead; I’ll clean this up.”

I suppose we could have our receptionist double as a bodyguard, but Sierra won’t like it. No, what I need is a reason for warrior werebears to be in the same building we use for our tattoo shop.

An idea hits me as the sound of music by P!nk bursts from the other room. I recall chatting with Ian yesterday. He’s a personal trainer and had been complaining about the time he spends driving to people’s homes instead of having his own gym. I smile to myself as the buttons on the dishwasher beep. I think Ian might get his wish.

I leave the kitchen to find Sierra bouncing on her feet, preparing to take on the demons in her head. She executes a swift move with her foot that slaps leather with a thud hard enough to make the chain squeak. Flipping around quickly, she delivers a roundhouse kick that makes me beam with pride.

Sierra has become a fierce warrior, and I know she will protect her babies with her life, but she shouldn’t have to. She deserves my protection. As the prima of this clan and her best friend, that’s what I intend to do.

L
ily

M
y spoon clinks
softly against a ceramic mug. Since I became a werebear two days ago my taste buds are in overdrive, and I have to add more sugar and cream to my coffee to cut the bitter flavor. The change has made me super-aware of everything. I’m still a bit overwhelmed by the assault on my senses, and I wonder how I used to wander through life so clueless.

Bright sunlight shimmers on the stainless steel appliances of Victor’s... no,
our
kitchen. We have a Viking stove! Not that I’ll ever use it, because we have a cook on staff, along with a driver, a housekeeper that comes every day, a gardener, and numerous men that seem to wander around doing nothing.

Today Victor had to return to work, and I’m trying not to feel like a stranger in my new home, although it’s hard, because I’m still in awe of this mansion. It was built in the late eighteen hundreds and has ten-foot ceilings that would make noises echo if it weren’t for the plush furnishings and oriental rugs.

I wander across the wood floor and into the dining room. With a built-in china cabinet, wainscoting, and even an ornate medallion on the ceiling where the chandelier hangs, it makes me envision a fancy dinner with ladies in their full-length dresses.

I glance over at one of the many fireplaces that used to warm the house. The faint smell of ash is present, and I recall our dinner last night. With my new-found love of meat, the leg of lamb was delicious, but what followed afterward went down in my personal history book. A flush rises to my cheeks as I remember our version of dessert. It was anything but sweet, and there are a few staff members that had better be sworn to secrecy. Because Victor acted as if nobody could hear our cries.

I continue on through the room to the sun porch. It must have been open at one point because the ceiling is painted pale blue like the front porch that isn’t enclosed. Two ancient-looking chestnut trees provide shade, and the leaves rustle in the gentle breeze that comes through the screens.

My brow furrows as I think about the staff. I’ve never been in a position in which I was waited on without engagement. It’s strange to have people in my daily life ignore me other than tending to my needs. I tried to chat with the cook earlier, and she informed me that Victor doesn’t like that.

Once I get settled in, I’m going to have to change things. It’s lonely without people to talk to, and while I’m sure Victor is kind to the people that work for him, I don’t plan to honor his desire for them to be invisible.

Harold, the gardener, catches my eye in his red T-shirt. He’s weeding one of the planting beds, and the memory of easy conversation with Annie while we tended her flowers tugs at my heart. She and I hit it off right away. I thought she was the kind of woman that would be a friend for life. What I didn’t know was that Annie was cultivating me to breed Le Roux werebears.

According to Victor, the Le Roux clan leads with a cruel iron fist. The Veilleux have been trying for decades to right the balance and make life fair for all of the three sub-clans under the Northeast Kingdom Clan. What hurts most is that I fell for Annie’s game. I’m aware of grooming behavior from my stint as a volunteer at a domestic abuse shelter back in Colorado, so I can’t believe I fell for it. I want to kick myself for being so gullible.

Victor had to change me to a werebear as soon as possible to keep me safe from them. He was afraid they were going to kidnap me to keep us apart. I wrap my arms around myself as I recall running into Taylor at the Cat’s Meow yesterday. I think she would have grabbed me if I hadn’t been with my husband.

I take a sip of my coffee and discover it’s lukewarm as I shake off my memories. I have a wonderful new life as Victor’s wife and plan to make the most of it. The first thing I need to do today is go shopping for new clothes. I’m going to meet my mother-in-law tonight and was informed she likes to dress for dinner.

As I walk back to the kitchen, the sound of tires rolling over gravel travels to my ears. My car is waiting for me. I should be excited because Thomas, the driver, is taking me to two different boutiques, and I have a credit card Victor insists I abuse. I would be thrilled if I had a friend to enjoy this with me. Maybe Victor’s mother can help me meet women my age.

Before I can get to the sink a cool hand with paper-thin skin reaches toward my cup. “Ms. Lily, your car is ready when you are.”

“Thank you, Carol.”

“I’ll have tea and cake for you when you return. I know how exhausting shopping can be.”

“Great, I’ll look forward to it.” Goodness, she won’t even look me in the eye. Things are definitely going to change around here. “Carol?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I reach out and touch her arm. “Please look at me.”

Timid blue eyes glance up at me. “Are you displeased with me?”

“No!” She flinches, and I quickly add, “Gosh, no. It’s just...” I sigh as Carol’s face relaxes. “It wasn’t that long ago that I was the one waiting on people. I’m not comfortable with you treating me as if I’m your superior.”

She shakes her head. “Ms. Lily, you’d better get used to it. You’re the prima.”

I’m not quite sure what a prima is, but I assume it’s a leader of some sort and nod. “Well, even if I am, I need you to look at me when we speak, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I know Victor’s family runs the Veilleux clan, and I know that means as his wife I’ll be the first lady of sorts. But I didn’t imagine it was more than something I became because of marriage. I’m going to have to ask Victor to explain things when he gets home.

Stepping out into the September air, I glance at the ancient oaks that line the drive that appears to wind down into town. The Veilleux mansion sits at the top of a hill and can be seen for miles. As I step onto the patterned brick walkway, I gaze over at the white marble benches that surround a trickling fountain. While the plush green carpet of lawn has faded to brown, carefully chosen perennials are alight with orange and red fall color. I smile at Thomas as he holds out a hand to help me into the shiny black town car.
This is my home!

A half hour later I’m in front of a navy-blue building on the main street of Bangor. The door is aqua while the trim is painted in a green shade that looks like the Caribbean Sea. A cool September breeze blows around me as I enter. The door shuts with a thud that alerts the sales clerks of my presence, although I sense they’re werebears too and that they were pretending they just noticed me because of the human browsing.

A brunette with a round face asks, “Are you Lily?”

Huh.
“Victor, I’m at Carla’s Boutique. Did you tell them I’d be coming?”

“Yes, my darling. I though it would be easier if they had a few things ready for you to try on. Do you mind?”

I grin at my husband’s thoughtfulness, especially since I want to make a good impression on my mother-in-law.
“No. Thank you.”

I answer, “I am.” The girl gives me the once-over as if I’m not able to afford the clothing in this shop, and I have a suspicion she was a high school mean girl. I rise to the challenge. “You have some things ready for me?”

She morphs quickly into her salesgirl role and says, “I’m Nina. Right this way.”

She leads me to an oversized dressing room with an overstuffed couch and a coffee table. Nina asks, “Can I get you anything to drink? We have wine, coffee, water, or tea.”

“No, thank you.” I glance at the dresses hanging up as she leaves. I had decided to find something in a magenta shade because it looks good on me, but I don’t see the color. I turn back to ask if they have anything pink but catch a conversation before I get around the corner to where they can see me.

Nina hisses, “She’s the new prima?”

I stop in my tracks to listen.

“I know. She’s so common. Whatever does Victor see in her?”

“I heard she’s his true mate.”

The other salesgirl’s voice is no longer a whisper as she says, “Patricia’s going to shit a brick when she meets her!”

The girls giggle as my face heats up with shame. I return to the dressing room, but nothing I try on works. Tears threaten to fall as I revert to my high school self and see nothing but a fat girl in the mirror.

What the hell is wrong with me?
I’m a freaking prima, and those girls should be cowering in my presence like Carol does. I take a deep breath to pull myself together.

Walking out of the dressing room with my head held high, I speak in a cool tone. “Nothing worked.” I’m tempted to wave them off, but I can’t let them know I heard what they said, so I add, “Thank you. Maybe another time.” Like hell. They just lost what could have been a good customer. The thought makes me smile as I approach Thomas, waiting by the car.

“No bags, Ms. Lily?” He clucks his tongue and gives me a wink that makes me think he heard the girls too. I’m tempted to laugh. “I’ll bet Lucinda’s Dress Shop will be a better place for you anyway.”

“Thank you, Thomas. You’re right. Carla’s wasn’t my style.”

Getting to the next shop is a quick trip, and I barely have time to ponder the idea of my new mother-in-law freaking out before we arrive.

As I place my hand in Thomas’s to get out of the car, he says, “Do you mind if I come in and wait for you? You know how Mr. Veilleux likes to keep you safe.”

My heart surges with thanks for this man’s kindness, especially when he looks me right in the eye. He’s so formal that I can’t resist and say, “Thank you, your presence would be most welcome.” I spoil it when I burst into giggles, but Thomas smiles back.

Lucinda herself helps me, and I leave with more than a dress for dinner. Somehow she managed to sell me enough clothes that Thomas and I struggle to carry all the bags to the car in one trip.

When I’m settled in the backseat for the drive home my thoughts turn to tea and cake. What a perfect ending to my successful shopping trip. But as we get closer to home my thoughts turn to Victor’s mother. Suddenly the thought of sweets leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.