Claused: BBW Holiday Bear Shifter Paranormal Romance (Christmas Bears Book 2) Read online

  “I would have been surprised…” He took a breath. “OK, I’ll play along. What happened?”

  “What happened? Nothing right there and then. My aunt was too upset, but once Caracas, that was the name of her cat, came home, she put a hex on the officer.” Marra looked at Kain; his eyes were wide. “Not that she hurt him. She’s a good witch. But he had to spend a fortune on haircuts that year, his hair grew ten times its normal rate.”

  Kain opened his mouth to say something, but then shut it again. He pressed his lips together, his brow wrinkled. “Officer Cranmore.”

  “That’s it.” It was her turn to frown. Then she whispered, “You’ve heard of him?”

  “I saw him. First year on the job, I was fresh faced and new to the job, I thought the officers were teasing me.” They were at a stop light, and Kain just sat there shaking his head as the light turned green and the cars around him began to move.

  “Kain,” Marra said, touching his shoulder.

  He jumped at her touch, and then drove forward. “Olivier Street,” Kain said, and he turned right, into a quiet street. This where she lived, this was where she’d lost her wand. Not lost, stolen, she reminded herself.

  “Yes, the shop is up here on the left,” she said, pointing to the place she called home. He pulled up outside and switched off the engine. Marra turned in her seat. “Are you OK?”

  “Yes.” He looked out of the window. “And this is where it happened?”

  “It… Does this mean you believe me?” she asked, hope in her voice. For some reason she couldn’t understand, she wanted someone to believe her, wanted Kain to believe her, but why?

  While she waited for him to answer, she looked inside herself, a thing she was good at doing. Her magic was something she had to search for and focus on, and then use her wand to direct. Since she had lost her wand, she hadn’t looked for her magic, scared it would have gone from her. Marra sighed with relief. It was there, but different somehow.

  She looked sharply at Kain. Was Kain being next to her the reason for this change? Was the magic in him tainting her own?

  “I don’t know if I’m ready to believe,” he said. “Part of me thinks this is all some joke, that someone with a hidden camera is going to jump out at me any minute.” He ran his hand through his hair. “But you can feel me… Can’t you?”

  “I don’t know what I feel, other than there is something inside you. A magic that’s different to mine. I can sense it, it feels like an animal.” She had to ask. “Are you a magician?”

  He laughed. “So this is why I think this is some kind of joke. The fact you think I’m a magician is the funniest thing I’ve ever heard. The only magicians I’ve ever seen are the fake ones on TV.”

  “It’s not a joke,” she said. “If you aren’t a magician, what are you?”

  “That, I’ll tell you when we prove to me you are a fairy godmother.” He looked troubled, but then he opened the car and got out. “Walk me through what happened.”

  “OK,” she said, disappointed he hadn’t shared his secret with her. The sense of a primal beast came to her once more. It was in the way he moved, the way looked at her, possessive, even though he thought she was making this all up.

  Marra watched him, and the magic inside her bubbled up, threatening to erupt, the force was so strong. For a moment, he shimmered and as he turned back towards her, she saw the face of a bear looking at her. She jumped, and then let out her breath. She was right, he was an animal: her mom had taught her about some of the other magical creatures that inhabited the world. What did her mom call the shape-changers, shifters? That was it, he was a shifter. A bear shifter.

  These were secretive beasts; no wonder he was wary. He had a secret to share, and even though she wanted to tell him she knew what he was, Marra decided she wanted him to tell her. Because when he did, she would know he finally believed in her.

  And she couldn’t ever be with a man who didn’t believe in magic.

  Chapter Five – Kain

  He wanted to believe. Not because he wanted to believe there was magic in this world, but because he wanted to believe in Marra, he wanted to believe in his mate.

  His mate who owned an antique shop. And who was about to try to convince Kain that billionaire businessman Lance DeVere, a man who could buy this shop a thousand times over, had come here, entered Marra’s antique shop, and then stolen her magic wand. A wand he couldn’t use without Marra.

  His bear stirred, suddenly concerned. If this was true, if DeVere had stolen her wand, then she might be in danger. Kain needed to take this more seriously than he had thought. A crazy woman as his mate was one thing, a mate in danger of being kidnapped was another.

  In the police station, it had seemed so farfetched. So ludicrous, that he’d figured he would be trying to protect her from men in white coats, wanting to take her to an asylum. Now, his bear might be called upon to protect her, with tooth and claws, if need be.

  Anything to keep our mate safe, his bear agreed.

  Does that mean you believe her? Kain asked.

  When you tell her you are a bear, do you expect her to believe you? His bear had a point.

  But a fairy godmother. He wasn’t ready to come out and admit to anyone his mate was a fairy godmother. He was a lawyer, and this would seriously dent his credibility.

  But she’s our mate, his bear said again.

  I know. I need a little time, Kain promised his bear.

  “This is where it happened,” she said, searching the ground with her eyes. “There are traces of magic, here and here.” She pointed at the ground, but he couldn’t see a thing.

  “OK. I take it there is no security camera?” Kain asked.

  “No. I’ve never had any problems before,” Marra said sadly.

  “You sell antiques. Don’t you get people coming in trying to pocket some of them?” Kain asked.

  “No. I don’t exactly have anything of any real value inside.”

  He gave the inside of the shop a cursory glance. Marra wasn’t lying, there seemed little of value on display; it was more of a jumble of bric-a-brac. “So DeVere ran out of the front door with your wand? Did you try to stop him?”

  “Of course. I tried to grab my wand, but I was scared it would snap.”

  “Because it’s so old?” Kain asked.

  “It’s ageless.” Her voice was filled with sadness. “It’s been in my family for centuries. It’s bad enough it’s been stolen, but broken… There’s no coming back from being broken.”

  “You come from a long line of fairy godmothers?” Kain asked, trying to ignore how stupid that sounded.

  “Yes.” She wiped a tear from her eye. “I’m the first Marraine Le Fey to lose the family wand.”

  “So your name runs in your family too?” Kain asked.

  She frowned. “Of course. My ancestors were French. Marraine Le Fey means Fairy Godmother in French.”

  That statement washed over him, and he let it sink in. “This is the weirdest conversation I have ever had,” he said. “And I have defended some real characters.”

  “Is that what I am to you? A real character. Like something out of the Brothers Grimm?” she asked. “When you realize I’m telling the truth, will you sell me to the circus or some exhibition?”

  “No. I didn’t mean it like that. But I’m used to dealing in facts. And there is no fact here.” Kain looked at the ground, and then the shop door. “Let’s go and have a look around, and then we can plan what we are going to do if Lance DeVere presses charges.”

  “He’s going to want to cut a deal,” she said. “I know it.”

  “Because he can’t use your wand?” Kain asked.

  “Yes.” Marra stood on the step, looked up and down the street, and then turned around, her shoulders slumped. Kain followed her inside, waiting by the door while she went to the back of the shop and turned on the lights.

  “You have some nice things, even if they aren’t valuable,” he said, looking around. Not that he
knew anything about antiques, it wasn’t his thing. The closest he’d gotten to a case involving antiques was when a client of his had tried to steal a classic Mustang. Not quite the same as an old dresser.

  “Thank you.”

  “So how do you make a living?” he asked.

  “The shop is mine, it’s been in the family for generations.” She sighed and looked around. “My grandma made a small fortune. But my mom was never interested in antiques, and to be honest, neither am I. So it’s hard. I don’t have that natural flair for buying low and selling high. The people who come my way usually look as if they need the money more than me.”

  He burst out laughing. “We make a good match.” Then he sobered. “Sorry, that was unprofessional.” And boy, did he want to be unprofessional with Marra right now. First, he had to get to the bottom of this whole fairy godmother business.

  “I forgive you. I have a forgiving nature.”

  “But you wouldn’t forgive Lance DeVere for stealing your wand?” he asked.

  “No.” She shook her head. “It belongs to me, to my family. It carries great responsibility…” She ducked her head, not needing to say the next words. Marra took full responsibility for the loss of the wand, and the guilt was evident.

  Kain stepped forward. He would solve this, one way or another. He either had to get back the wand, if it existed, or make her realize this was all in her head. “Talk me through it.”

  “I was reading a book. Behind the counter.” Marra slipped behind the counter, past a rail of clothes that looked as if they belonged in another century. She lifted up a book, Pride and Prejudice, old, maybe a first edition, so there was something of value here. “It’s my favorite,” she said with a shrug.

  “Then what?” Kain asked, deciding he was definitely no Mr. Darcy. But he was prejudiced towards Marra and her claims to be a fairy godmother.

  “A man came in.” She stared at the door, her face pale. “I sensed him… There was something about him that felt dark.”

  “Keep to the facts.”

  She nodded. “I looked up, and he was perusing the shelves. He looked so out of place. His suit was probably more expensive than every item in the shop put together.” She shook her head, imagining the man, picturing it all. Kain had seen this so many times, but he knew what the defendant saw, and what actually happened, were not always one and the same thing.

  “Marra. Did he attack you?” Kain asked.

  “No.” Her eyes came back to focus on him. “Another man came in. He asked to look at the jewelry.” She pointed to the cabinet in front of her. “So I took my attention off the first man.”

  “Was the first man Lance DeVere?”

  “Yes. The man who stole my wand was the first man. I didn’t know his name, not until Officer Partridge told me.”

  “So DeVere was in the shop looking around, and another man was looking at the jewelry.” Kain pointed to the cabinet, and Marra followed his gaze, then continued with her story.

  “Yes. I took out the trays. Showed him the rings, and this brooch.”

  “And where was your wand? Where did Lance steal it from?” Kain asked gently.

  “I have a small suite of rooms above the shop. He slipped up the back stairs.” Tears pricked her eyes. “He had magic.”

  “You are saying Lance DeVere is like you.”

  “Like us,” she whispered, so softly he was able to ignore it, but the idea wormed deeper into his brain. Marra continued, “Sorry. Yes. He is a magician or wizard of some kind, I believe. If you have enough money, other, more powerful magicians will imbue a man, or woman, with enough magic that they can make weak spells. I think Lance DeVere is such a man. Not very powerful, but strong enough to sense the wand, and he may believe it will magnify his own power.”

  “But it won’t?” Kain asked.

  “No. The power of the wand is passed from one fairy godmother to another. I got it from my mom, and she had to pass that power to me.”

  “So, he might come after you, so you can pass the power onto him?”

  Her voice held an age of sadness in it when she answered. “He may. But if he does, I would die rather than hand him that power.” She shook off her sadness. “But it would still do him no good. The wand cannot be used for personal gain. Not even if it’s to protect the wand itself.”

  “Ahh, so that’s why you couldn’t stop him?” Kain asked. Was he actually starting to believe?

  “Yes. That’s what I thought anyway.”

  “But you were wrong?” Kain asked.

  “I should have tried. You see, the more I think about it, the more I believe I could have used magic. Because getting my wand back wouldn’t have been for personal gain. Not when there is a Cinderella who needs my help.”

  Kain sighed and dragged his hand through his hair. He must be crazy. “OK. I’ll bite. What is a Cinderella?”

  Chapter Six – Marra

  What is a Cinderella? To Marra, that was like asking what is a table, or what is an apple, something that has always been there in your life, and never needed an explanation. All fairy godmothers love helping a Cinderella.

  “A Cinderella is someone who needs a little help to find the perfect partner in life. They are fated to be together, but sometimes circumstances or other people get in the way.”

  “OK. I get that.” He frowned.

  “You do?” she asked.

  “Yeah, of course. Fated mates is the one thing I can buy into. So who is this Cinderella?” Kain asked.

  “That’s just it, I need my wand to find her,” Marra said, looking at her watch. “I’m running out of time. Tomorrow is her special day: her ball is tomorrow night, and I can’t find her without my wand.”

  Marra moved back around the counter and headed for the door, but he barred her way. “Wait. You can’t go over to DeVere’s mansion and barge in. You’ll end up in jail, and then you won’t be able to help anyone.”

  “I can’t do nothing,” she said, pushing into him, even though she had no chance of getting past his broad chest. She longed to tear his shirt off, and gaze at his naked skin... and touch him, with her fingertips. If he took her in his arms, he might kiss her senseless, might take her to bed and make love to her until she forgot all about wands and Cinderellas, and happy ever afters.

  Was this a test? She folded her arms protectively across her chest. She would not give into the primal instincts to mate with him which coursed through her body. He had the animal side, not her. But something inside her growled in recognition. Or was that her own voice in her ears?

  Kain had a heated look in his eye, and she was sure she really had made a sound like a hungry beast. He took a shuddering breath, and took a step back from her. “The best thing you can do right now, is lock this door, and go and put some coffee on. Then you can tell me everything you know about your Cinderella. Because there must be something,” he said.

  She looked past him, gazing out into the night. What did she know about this Cinderella? Only glimpses, whispers on the wind, faces in the mist. It was impossible. But he was right, Lance DeVere would love for her to track him down and put herself within his grasp. She wouldn’t give up her wand to him; she wasn’t lying when she said she would rather die. But a dead fairy godmother would not help her Cinderella.

  “OK.” She made to move around him, but he placed his hand on her shoulder, sending shockwaves through her body. He gasped, he’d felt it too, and when she looked up, into his eyes, they were dilated, filled with an unfathomable passion. This was why he believed her about true mates, because that’s what they were; she saw it in his eyes, felt it in the heat of his touch, and recognized it in her very core. If only he would open his mind and believe the rest of her story.

  “Promise me, you won’t go over there. Promise you won’t go to DeVere’s house alone.”

  “I will.” She leaned into him, wanting him to kiss her. Was this a test? The question permeated her brain once more. “If you promise to help me with my Cinderella. And if we
can’t help her, you promise to come with me and help me find my wand.”

  “I promise.”

  That was it? No argument, no bargaining.

  “Then I promise too,” she said. How could she not? A dreamlike state wrapped its fingers around her and threatened to turn her brain to mush and let her emotions take over. She longed to be with him, to lie with him in her bed, and for him to make sweet, sweet love to her. She mentally slapped herself across the face. That was better. She focused on him properly and said, “You know, when you promise a magical creature, you have to stick to it. It’s like a clause in the contract, you must never break it. You weren’t crossing your fingers, were you? Because that really doesn’t count.”

  He held up his hands, fingers stretched wide. “Do you want to see my toes too?”

  There was a lot of Kain Nolan she would like to see, but his toes could wait. “No, we’re good.”

  A smile flitted across her face, and she pushed the door closed, and made sure it was locked. Then she wove her way through the antiques, many of which she considered friends. From the old china doll in the corner, who sat next to the vintage teddy bear which she had re-stuffed with love and care, to the old grandfather clock which chimed the wrong hour, no matter how many clockmakers she asked to try to repair it.

  This was her home. She might not be good at selling, but she was good at caring, and she cared about the old things that filled her shop, and the people who came through her door needing help.

  “Here, you need to take my hand,” she said, as they reached the bottom of the staircase.

  “Why?” he asked.

  “Because the magic doesn’t know you yet. It doesn’t know you are a good man,” she said matter-of-factly.

  “You talk about magic as if it was a living thing,” he said.

  “It is, it’s all around us. It lives in us. Only some of us are more connected than others.”

  He threaded his hand through hers, another tremor passing between them. Marra risked a glance at him, but he was staring at their hands and his grip tightened. She could almost read his thoughts. Or did she imagine the voice in her head, which told her, if Kain Nolan had his way, he would never let her go. Ever.