Shifter Scrooge, page 8
“Ohmyfreakinggawd,” she whispered when she finally took a good look at herself.
Gasping, Bea inched closer to the mirror. After the whole mess outside, being shoved into snow, and turning into a huge ass Tiger, Bea expected to look like she felt—like she’d been hit by a truck. On the contrary, though, she looked fantastic. Like better than ever.
Her skin practically glowed with youth and vibrance. Her eyes sparkled, the greens and golds more pronounced. Her hair was still wet, but it felt full and soft, like she’d just had one of those crazy expensive conditioning treatments. Her body type was the same—it wasn’t like she lost weight or suddenly had muscles. But Bea had always liked her curvy frame, and now she appreciated it even more because on her neck she sported a scar where Striker had bitten her.
It's our claiming mark. Good mate. Should bite him back.
Bea shook her head to shush the Tigress’ voice. It was still so new and strange to hear the animal whispering in her head, but she had a point. Striker felt like hers, and she wanted to claim him as such more than anything.
But he doesn’t want us for keeps, she reminded the animal, and tried to ignore the stab of pain that went through her.
Want. Mate.
Bea tried to soothe her pitifully mewling beast, but the animal had retreated now, too sad to continue their tentative tête-à-tête. How was she ever going to explain this to her parents? Was she even allowed to? She had so many questions, but until she could grab her big girl panties and face him, she would not get any answers.
Rrrrr.
The animal inside her pressed against her skin, encouraging her to seek him out. She didn’t have to ask who the beast meant. It was always going to be him. Striker. Her mate. Oh, he hadn’t said anything like that to her, but thanks to Mrs. Myrtle’s book club, Bea had a pretty good idea. But if she was his mate, why did he want her to leave?
Maybe it was a one-sided thing? Maybe her animal had attached herself to him, but he was just about the whamming and bamming. That would be her luck, wouldn’t it?
Sigh.
She walked into the bedroom and grabbed another pair of leggings and an oversized crewneck sweatshirt from her bag, foregoing her underthings. Her skin felt too sensitive for too many layers, and well, she just didn’t want to be any more uncomfortable than necessary.
You mean, more uncomfortable than pouring your heart out to the man who’d said aloud that he couldn't wait to get rid of you only hours ago?
Oh, yeah. Bea was totally screwed. She was scrunching her hair as she entered the living room area, stopping when she saw what he’d done. And it had to be him, her nose told her no one else had entered the cabin.
Bea spun in a circle, her arms wide as she took in the rows of garland and twinkle lights he hung from the ceiling. A giant plate of the gingerbread men she’d baked sat in the center of the coffee table and they were all decorated with icing and sprinkles, like he’d worked double time to get them done.
The TV was on in the background, playing one of those cute little stop motion shows she remembered from when she was a kid. The stew was set to simmer, and the rich aroma filled the entire cabin, along with the scents of cinnamon sticks, cloves, anise, and fruity red wine.
Bea giggled when she found the pitcher of mulled wine on the counter, along with a couple of glasses. After what she’d just been through, she figured she deserved a glass as much as the next person, and she poured herself some before going to the door to search for Striker. When she opened it, an even bigger surprise greeted her.
Striker was standing next to a five foot tall snowman, and he was trying unsuccessfully to get a couple of rocks to stay put where the eyes should be. Bea clapped her hands and laughed out loud, smiling even wider when his gaze flashed to hers.
“Hey!” he called, running over to where she stood.
“What are you doing?” she asked, suddenly bewildered by his abrupt about face.
“I’m trying to make Christmas,” he replied, and ducked his head.
She could feel his embarrassment and his yearning. Like he was hoping for something from her, but she didn’t know what.
“You are? But I thought you were a veritable Scrooge who hated Christmas!”
“I do. I mean, I did. But I wanna be different, Trixie. I wanna be better. For you.”
His glowing teal eyes held her gaze, and Beatrix felt her heart swell with love for the sinfully gorgeous Shifter in front of her. She’d always been a believer in magic, and now she had proof it existed. Striker was magic. And not just because of the beautiful Tiger currently resting inside her because of him. He was magic because the second she laid eyes on him, Beatrix had fallen in love for the first, and last, time in her life.
“I thought you couldn’t wait another day for me to leave,” she hedged, needing more from him.
“No. I was panicking and stupid, and I am so sorry, baby. Please believe me.”
“It hurt, thinking you wanted me gone,” she confessed, not bothering to wipe the fat tears rolling down her cheeks.
“I know. I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you, Trixie, and I sure as fuck don’t want you gone,” he growled, his gaze never wavering.
Without second-guessing herself, Bea took one step closer to where he stood. Then another. It was scary, and she didn’t know what to expect, but she believed him when he said he didn’t want to hurt her.
That was the thing about being a dreamer, she supposed. She was always quick to forgive and ready to think the best of everyone. Striker had been hurt before, by who or what, she wasn’t sure, but she wanted to learn. She wanted to know everything about him.
“I know this is strange and new, and I have some serious explaining to do, Trixie.”
“I guess you weren’t expecting me when you woke up yesterday, huh?” she said and snorted a giggle.
“I wasn’t expecting anything out of my life, but you, you were the best fucking surprise I have ever had.”
Truth.
Her Tigress’ voice inside her head was new, but Bea heaved a sigh of relief when the beast whispered that word. He was telling the truth. Maybe he did like her. A little bit, at least.
“What, uh, where are those guys?”
Striker’s face went hard as his gaze flashed to the shed where he’d obviously brought the men who were illegally hunting on her cousin’s husband’s land. The men weren’t just out for sport, though. From what she could decipher between the bouts of pain she’d been experiencing at that time, Bea knew they were there because they had learned about the existence of Shifters, and they wanted to kill one.
Rrrrr.
“They’re in the shed. I gave them heat and water. And I called Keeton.”
“You did?”
“Yeah, I, uh, explained what happened with the poachers, and us. Look, Trixie, we have to talk. You see, when we made love, and I bit you—”
“A c-claiming mark, right? My animal, she says it’s a claiming mark,” she replied, ducking her head when he reared back, surprised.
Uncertainty filled her, and she wished she hadn’t said anything. Now he was going to think she was trying to trap him when that was the farthest thing from the truth. She wrapped her arms around herself.
“Your Tigress is right,” he said, and when she looked up into his glittering gaze, she swore she saw something warm and poignant on his handsome face. “Beautiful and smart, too.”
“What does she look like?”
“Can’t you see her in here?” he asked, tapping his head.
“No, I mean, I see her eyes, and they are like mine only wild. But so far, it’s really just her voice in my head.”
“I see. Well, um, she looks like my beast. That is, she’s a White Siberian Tiger. About eight feet long, seven or eight hundred pounds of muscle. Wicked sharp claws, and long fangs. She’s a little badass troublemaker, like you,” he teased.
“Good! But I’m, uh, I’m glad you didn’t let me eat that bad guy,” she confessed.
Bea rubbed her arms to ward off not any chill, she was sort of beyond that now, but more the feeling of unease that came over her when she thought of the horrible things those men wanted to do.
“Hey, you’re safe now,” he said, and his teal eyes glowed with the power of his Tiger. “I promise, Trixie, I won’t ever let anything hurt you.”
She felt the truth of his words without her Tigress having to tell her so. And it warmed Bea, deep down in her soul, just knowing he wanted to keep her protected. But that wasn’t the same as being loved. Foolish girl that she was, Bea wasn’t happy with just a glimpse of the heavens, she wanted the whole moon.
Rrrrr.
Her animal grumbled, and she pressed her fist against her chest. What was she supposed to do with all this, she wondered. She loved him, but she did not want him to stay out of obligation. If he did, then Striker would only grow to resent her, and Bea didn’t think she could survive that.
“Striker,” she said, reaching out to touch him, but she froze when the sound of an engine reached her ears.
“What is that sound? Oh, wow!”
It wasn’t a car, but a caravan of snowmobiles climbing up the driveway towards them. She watched wide eyed, but her view was obstructed when Striker moved in front of her.
“Hey—” she objected, but his raised hand and the tension rolling off him told her he was trying to protect her.
That was promising. Even if she had a big, strong Tigress of her own now, it was kind of nice that he wanted to keep her safe. Bea had never been a fan of perpetuating gender roles, but she had to admit, something inside her felt super turned on by watching Striker act all masculine and heavy-handed with her safety.
Rrrrr.
Her inner kitty wanted to rub herself all over him and mark him with her scent just for putting on that macho display. Something he must have picked up on if the slight flare of his nostrils and the brightening of his eyes as he turned his head to glance at her said anything. Oooh, yeah, she liked knowing she had an effect on him, just another perk to her new Spidey, er, make that Tigressy senses. The rumbling inside his chest grew louder as the snowmobiles powered down and the riders got off.
“Striker Sanchez?” a deep, masculine voice inquired, and Bea faltered.
The man smelled like Tiger, and he felt powerful, so much so that she couldn’t lift her gaze while he stared down at her. Bea pressed closer to Striker’s back, her hands on his shoulders as she looked away from the impossibly heavy stranger. Striker growled again, holding the man’s stare for another beat before averting his own gaze and baring his throat.
“You must be the Neta of the Island Stripe Pride and acting head of the Shifter Council of New York City that Keeton told me about,” Striker said in a voice thick with his beast.
“I am Dean Romero. This is my mate, and Nari, Violet,” he said, introducing a lovely woman with soft curves and a ready smile on her face.
“Wait,” Bea said, stepping out from behind Striker and finding her voice. “Are you V. Romero, the author?”
“Um, yeah, I am, actually,” the woman replied shyly.
“OMG! This is amazing. Mrs. Myrtle is gonna flip her wig!”
“Mrs. Myrtle?” Violet asked, looking at her husband and at Striker as if for confirmation.
“Um, darling, why don’t you go inside with Miss Gallo, I believe, yes?”
“Yes! But call me Bea or Beatrix, only Striker calls me Trixie, or Troublemaker—”
“Does he now? And what do you call him?” Violet asked, her eyes twinkling with humor.
“Um, you know what, the only nickname I have for him so far is Sexy Scrooge cause he hates Christmas, and he is really, um, you know, I think I’m gonna go inside now cause I can’t stop fangirling and making an ass of myself,” she mumbled and tucked some of her curls behind her ears before she turned around and hightailed it out of there.
Eek!
She was so lame. But Violet, also known as V. Romero, author of the hottest Alien Shifter Romances Bea had ever read, thanks to Mrs. Myrtle, was like a superstar in her world. She heard the men chuckling and talking after she left, but her heart was pounding too loudly for her to discern what they were saying.
“Bea? Is it alright if I come in?” the Tigress asked.
“Of course. Um, you’re mated to the Neta, that’s like an Alpha, right? So does that make you,” she trailed off.
“The Nari of the island Stripe pride. That is what Tiger Shifters call their Alpha fem, but you know something, I was a normal like you were before the Puspa.”
“Holy crap. You were?” Bea asked, eyes wide as she watched the friendly female take a seat at the counter.
“Yep. Now, how about we have some of this mulled wine, and we can talk about what’s happened here and to the changes you are going through, sound good?”
“Ohmygawd, that sounds so good, Mrs. Romero—”
“Please, call me Violet. Mrs. Romero is my mother-in-law,” the slightly older female replied, and winked.
“Thank you. Okay, Violet, um, I have like a boatload of questions.”
“Great. Let’s start with one while the men do their thing outside, okay?”
“Okay,” Bea replied.
Her voice sounded shaky, but she knew she had to get answers from someone. Truth was, she hadn’t really had any time to process what was happening to her. Her Tigress had quieted down, and she felt relieved that the animal had given her a breather. She just wasn’t used to that constant presence in her brain. Heck, she didn’t know if she would ever get used to it.
“It’s strange, isn’t it? Having another voice inside of you? I know for me, I felt like I was going crazy those first few minutes after Dean gave me my animal. Now it’s his cubs that drive me bonkers!”
“You have kids?”
“Yes. Three now and four on the way,” she murmured, cradling her belly with one hand.
“Wow! Oh my goodness, I am so sorry for taking you away from them!”
“Nonsense. I needed a breather, besides we’re staying in our new family sized cabin just on the other side of this mountain. Dean and I started out together in a small cabin just big enough for the two of us, but now, well, with the kids, our Pride mates, and my in-laws wanting to visit, we needed more room,” Violet explained indulgently.
“Can I ask why Dean turned you? Did you want to be a Shifter?” Bea asked.
“It’s more complicated than want. I mean, I always imagined fanciful stuff like that, hello, I am a writer,” she joked, then her face grew serious. “No, you see, Dean didn’t really ask me. I was in a car accident, and he rescued me. I had a hit my head and lost consciousness, and I was in terrible shape.”
“Oh, so putting a Tigress inside you saved you.”
“Yes, but he didn’t know that would happen. Here, let me explain something. Unlike the fairy tales, or horror stories depending on what you read, Shifters aren’t made, they are born, with a few magical exceptions.”
“Like us,” Bea interrupted with a tiny smile.
“Yeah, like us,” Violet whispered and reached out to squeeze Bea’s hand.
She’d never had much in the way of female comradery, but Bea sure was grateful Violet had accompanied her mate to see about those troublesome hunters and the violence they’d tried to wreak here. Shivers raced up her spine just thinking at what could have happened had her beast not taken over and had Striker not been there.
“He wouldn’t let anything happen to you, you know. A true mate would give his life for yours,” Violet told her.
“Oh no, you are mistaken. I mean, we did, you know, have some fun naked smexy times. But that’s not our situation. Striker doesn’t love me or anything,” Bea confessed, and how it hurt to say those words out loud.
“Oh, sweetie, I assure you, you are the one who is mistaken—”
“No, I’m not. He was practically counting the days till I would leave when he went outside, and those guys tried to jump him. I was watching on the monitors, and I guess I touched something cause I started to pick up the sound too. That’s how I knew they were coming. I heard them.”
“But Bea, the Puspa only happens if the couple involved has a matebond, a true one—”
“No, we don’t have that. It was just a one-night stand for him.”
“What about you? You love him, don’t you?” Violet asked, her face full of concern.
Bea nodded. Her soggy tears plopped onto her hand as she looked down to try to stem their flow. She thought maybe they had something, but now she knew. He’d decorated to try to atone for turning her. But that wasn’t his fault. Apparently, this Puspa thing was rare, and Striker wouldn’t have expected it to be a possibility.
“I’m a big girl. I can handle it.”
“You’re not going to hear anything I say, and I get it. You’re still processing, but maybe you should talk to him again,” Violet whispered in a soothing voice as she wrapped an arm around Bea.
“Listen, I hate to cause so much trouble, but can I go with you when you leave? If I stay here, I’m just going to make an ass out of myself.”
“Of course you can. IN fact, we don’t have to wait for the guys to finish their stuff.”
“Oh, like now?” Bea asked, wiping her eyes. “I-I don’t think I can say goodbye without falling apart.”
“Then don’t. Just go out the side door, and I will bring my snowmobile around. We will figure this all out, Bea. Trust me,” Violet told her with the power of her position lacing her voice.
Bea nodded her head. She had already lost her heart. What more did she have to lose by leaving? If anything, this would save some of her pride.
But what good was that on a cold winter’s night?
Chapter Ten
“What are you going to do with them?” Striker asked as he helped Dean and one of his Enforcers, Trench Tora, load the four poachers onto the cargo sled he had hooked up behind one of the snowmobiles.
