Called by the Bear 7-9 (8 page)

L
ily

M
y nail
-biting habit is back in full force, but that’s the least of my worries. I’m married to a cold-blooded killer, and that trumps a manicure. Last night I sat through dinner with my husband pretending all was well. I kept trying to see the monster beneath his polished exterior, and little things gave him away. The way he cut his steak used to make me think of his strength, but last night I saw the anger. Even his voice, when he addressed Carol, struck a warning bell now that I know what he really is.
How could I have been so blind?

I finally retreated to my drawing room with the excuse that I needed to finish up my plan for my library meeting today. What I really need to plan is how to keep Sierra alive. I may not love the girl, but she doesn’t deserve to die so my husband can have his children. No matter how much I love Victor and no matter how important it is to gain custody of the babies, I cannot sit back and let him commit murder.

In addition to keeping an assassination from happening, I also need to learn the truth about my husband’s relationship with Sierra. My gut is telling me that I may have been wrong about the Le Rouxs’ intent and that it may not have been as evil as I have been led to believe. If only I knew who to trust.

“Ms. Lily, I’ve brought you some tea.” I turn to Carol standing in the doorway with a tray. Her presence makes me aware of the fact I’m still in my pajamas and it’s early afternoon.

“Oh. Did I ask for some? I’m sorry, I’m quite distracted today.”

“You didn’t, but I thought you might need it.” Her gaze is kind as she leans over to set the tea down on my table, and I notice she included a couple of her macaroons. “Is there anything I can do for you?” she asks.

My throat thickens at her words, and I long to throw myself into her arms for a good cry. If only she were a loving version of my mother instead of one of the trusted Veilleux employees. I shake my head and wave her away, because I’m afraid words won’t come out.

The faint scent of lemon rises from the hot liquid I pour into my cup. I wander to the window and glance out at the winter wonderland. Wind swirls snow from drifts into the air. Just yesterday I was daydreaming about Christmas in this beautiful mansion and planning how I would decorate for the holiday.

An icy tendril of fear slices through me when I remember how Victor wouldn’t give me the key to the basement. He insisted it was filthy down there and he’d get Thomas to drag up the boxes of Christmas things. What would I find down there? Blood-red ribbons laced with a slice of steely silver? A more evil thought comes to me, and I wonder if there are secret dungeons or a torture chamber.

The tea is hot on my tongue when I take a sip, and I shake my horrible thoughts. I have a meeting with the librarian at four, and it won’t bode well for the Veilleux if I don’t make a good presentation. I sit and review my papers as I try to soothe my nerves with the sweet coconut flavor of Carol’s cookies.

I
welcome
the cold slap of wind on my face as I walk from the town car to the library entrance. It clears my head and lets me focus on the task at hand, which is more pleasant than where my mind has been most of today. The wooden floor beneath my feet creaks as I move across the expansive lobby area of the old building toward the front desk. My steps echo softly until I reach the area rug that muffles the noise.

A voice that is barely above a whisper says, “Mrs. Veilleux, I’m delighted to meet you.”

I put out my hand to an older woman who has the perfect librarian bun complete, with gray streaked though brown color. Her eyes are rimmed in red, and I wonder if she might have been crying. “Please, call me Lily. It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Mrs. Thompson.”

“If I’m to call you Lily, I insist you call me Martha.” She turns on her flat shoes and leads me behind the counter. “Right this way. We can discuss things in my office.”

A tissue swishes out of a decorative box, and she wipes her nose as I unbutton my tailored wool coat. She says, “Pardon me. I just received a bit of bad news, and I’m sure I look a mess.”

I reach out to touch her arm. “Goodness, if this is a bad time, we can reschedule.”

Martha holds out her hand to take my jacket. “Oh no. It’s not every day I get to spend time with our prima. Please, sit.”

I lower myself to a comfortable-looking chair across the desk from where she sits and recall Carol’s kindness earlier today. “Martha, is there anything I can do?”

The woman sinks into her chair with a sigh. “Unfortunately, the damage is already done. I just learned that my niece’s husband killed himself yesterday, and—” She stops and swallows as she blinks back fresh tears. “And it breaks my heart that my beautiful Amy had to go with him. She had such a bright future ahead of her.” Martha’s lips turn up a little when she confesses. “Amy planned to be a librarian like me.”

“Oh, how tragic. She—?” I stop because I’m not sure whether Amy couldn’t bear the loss and took her own life or her husband killed her too. Either way, I don’t want to intrude.

Martha nods as if she knows what I was going to ask. “True mates. It’s so senseless that when one partner dies, the other has to as well.”

Wait, what?
When a true mate dies, the other goes with them?
Why didn’t I know this? That doesn’t sound right to me, and I make a mental note to find out more. “Oh, Martha. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

She smiles at me through watery eyes as she dabs with a tissue. “Enough of this. Distract me with wonderful plans for clan children. I need a little happiness today.”

I reach into my bag for my folder. “All right, but if you need me to stop at any time, just say the word.”

It turns out planning the program was just what Martha needed, and she’s even laughing a little at the stories she shares with me by the end of our meeting. I let our hug linger when I say goodbye, and we make plans to get together again next week.

When I leave the library, it’s dark outside as the shortest day of the year in Maine approaches. I approach the silhouette of Thomas leaning against the town car, waiting. The temperature has dropped, and I welcome the warmth when I get in. My thoughts return to Martha’s niece. “Thomas, can I ask you a question about true mates?”

“Yes, of course, Ms. Lily.”

“I heard that when one true mate dies, the other does, too, but I find it hard to believe.”

The blinker ticks softly as I wait for his reply. “That’s not quite correct. It only happens when it’s suicide.”

“Oh, that’s awful.” I imagine the librarian’s grief and guess it must be tainted with anger at the man who essentially killed her niece.

“Yes, it is.”

I stare out the window at the faint outline of the forest illuminated by the headlights of passing cars. I trace a line in the fog on the window, revealing a sliver of black in the gray, and imagine being in a dark enough place that one would want to die knowing they’ll kill their mate too. It hits me that I’ve just been given an option to save Sierra’s life. While I would never take my own life, it’s leverage I might be able to use.

My stomach clenches as I think about how I’m entertaining taking on Victor. But if I don’t, he’ll surely start a war that will kill innocent people and could very well wipe out a clan’s alpha bloodline. The words of an old Native American woman I knew in Colorado echo in my mind.
“You are destined to save a clan.”
Is this what she meant? That I was sent here to stop Victor? What if I’m supposed to save my husband instead? Heat rises to my face, and the car is suddenly stifling.

Thomas asks, “Ms. Lily, is everything okay?”

I glance in the rearview mirror at his reflection dimly lit by the dashboard and force myself to breathe deeply. I offer a forced smile. “Everything’s fine.”

The driver chuckles softly before he says, “Good. Because your husband loves life more than anyone I know. He won’t be killing himself soon.”

I grin back at him. Little does he know I’m not worried about my life, because I’m plotting how to stop his alpha. “Glad to hear it, because I’ve got big plans.”

Thomas’s tone becomes somber when he says, “I’m sure you do, Mrs. Veilleux. I’m sure you do.”

C
arly

I
walk
into my home and the aroma of baked goods. I head straight to the kitchen to find a small feast’s worth of goodies on the table. The plastic of my shopping bags filled with chips, dip, and wine rustles when I set them down next to the peanut butter cookies, German chocolate cake, and pecan pie. “Wow. Sierra’s going to be in sugar heaven.”

Annie turns to me, and I notice flour on her cheek. “Yeah. I bake when I’m upset.” She’s holding a spatula with a chocolate chip cookie on it and extends her hand toward me. “Want one?”

I take the warm offering and bite into oozing heaven. A shameless moan escapes my lips before I swallow the mouthful down. “I’m not going to stay at pre-baby weight, am I?”

“Nope, not until I get over my heartache.”

I walk over and hug her. “I wish alpha powers let me wave a magic wand to make your Prince Charming materialize.”

“That would be a neat trick.” Annie steps away from me, and her eyes fill with moisture. “Can you conjure up a princess for Ian, too?”

“Oh, honey.” I pull her back to me. “Let it out. A little snot on my shoulder is nothing compared to what the babies do every day.”

Annie chuckles before the laughter turns to sobs. I imagine she’s crying about more than her love life, though. As strong as she is everyday, she’ll never get the one thing she wants: children of her own. No matter how close she is to my children, it has to be painful to know she’ll never be a mother.

If only I could fix part of this. I want to tell her another true mate will come along and she just needs to be patient. But I can’t promise something like that when we don’t even know if it can happen. Instead, I hold my dear sister-in-law and offer what small comfort I can. Her hair is silky under my fingers as I stroke it, and she tries to let the pain of heartbreak bleed away.

When she’s done, she pulls away. “I should make ice cream.”

I smile in response, because while I’m sure Sierra will arrive with enough supplies to make hot fudge sundaes for an army, Annie can’t help herself. “I’ll go cue up the cry movies. Any preferences?”

“Nope. Just make sure there’s plenty of tissues handy.”

I’m clicking through movies available with our online subscription when Sierra arrives. She stops to read through the list. “God, those are all so depressing.” She moves toward the kitchen as she calls out, “Put some comedy in there, too. We’re going to need it.”

I laugh when I hear her squeal over the whine of the ice cream maker. “I’ve died and gone to bakery heaven! Forget men, Annie. Marry me.”

I reach for the bowl of chips when the noise of the machine stops, and I say, “I’ll marry the first person to bring me wine.”

Annie leans over me from behind the couch and hands me a goblet full of pale-yellow liquid. “Already on it.” She comes around to sit next to me and places a tray full of sweets on the table with a clatter.

She looks at my list on the TV screen. “Let’s start with
Steel Magnolias
. It’s Donna’s favorite, and I remember watching it with her when I was a kid.”

“What a coincidence. My dad brought home the DVD to watch when my first boyfriend broke up with me.” I wonder if it was one of Marion’s favorite movies.

“What a sweet man. Did he cry along with you?”

I nod and tear up a little at the memory of my father trying to be the mother I didn’t have. “He did. People thought of him as a tough guy, but he knew how to be a softie when it came to me.”

Sierra makes the couch bounce when she lands on Annie’s other side. “Al was the best. Remember when he was sick and we painted his toenails so the surgeon would wonder about him? I thought he was going to get thrown out of the hospital for laughing so loudly.”

I don’t want to think about how I lost my father to lung cancer, so I lean into Annie and change the subject. “I bet your dad was pretty special, too.”

“He was. But I don’t want to cry again just yet. Let’s watch the movie.”

By the time Brady arrives home, we’ve gorged ourselves on sugar, salt, and alcohol. I stop the movie we aren’t watching so we can turn our attention to my husband when he sits on the coffee table to talk to us. “Donna will be by in the morning with the triplets, and we’ll discuss this at our meeting, but I want to share her news with you now.”

Sierra perks up, and I ask, “What’s going on?”

“She spoke to Kimi, and we may get a compromise I think everyone can live with.” He glances at Sierra. “As much as I wish we could keep Victor from seeing your children, we can’t, because one will be the next Veilleux alpha. But we can keep them safe.”

My best friend crosses her arms and tilts her head at Brady as if she’s skeptical. He continues. “Kimi plans to meet with their medicine man, and they’ll spell the children so that if any harm comes to them or their parents, the consequences will be grave enough to keep everyone in check.”

Annie asks, “What exactly are the consequences?”

“It hasn’t been decided yet, but I have no doubt they’ll be severe.”

Sierra scoots forward on the couch. “So Ashton and I will be safe, and so will Lily and Victor?”

“That’s my understanding. I’m sure we’ll get more information after Kimi and Tokala meet.”

I don’t want to say it out loud, so I speak to my mate privately.
“There are a hundred ways this could go wrong, aren’t there?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“This is good news. I’m sure we’ll figure out an acceptable compromise,” I say.

Sierra gets up. “I’m not going to like anything other than Victor never laying a finger on my babies. I think I need more wine.” She asks Brady, “Want a glass?”

He sighs. “Yes. I don’t like this any more than you do.” He takes Sierra’s place on the couch and wraps an arm around Annie’s shoulders. “How’s my sister?”

She leans against him. “I’ve had better days. But I’ll manage.”

“Maybe you should try a human man.”

Annie hits his arm, and Sierra hands him his drink as she says, “No way, they can’t compare. I’d rather be alone.”

Brady raises his eyebrows at me. “Is that true?”

Annie’s eyes light up. “Is this about dicks again? Because Donna will be sorry she’s not here.”

“It’s so much more than the unusually large size of the werebear love stick. It’s what they do with it.” Sierra places herself on the coffee table to face us.

Brady snorts out wine. “Love stick?”

Sierra leans forward and speaks in a suggestive tone as her hands add a visual to the words, “Silken rod, steely memb—”

My husband holds out his hand. “Stop! What ever happened to using the word ‘cock’?”

“Or ‘penis.’” Annie giggles uncontrollably.

Brady’s eyes crinkle at the corners as he tries to be stern. “I think you ladies have had a little too much to drink.”

“Or not enough. Maybe it’s time for shots,” Sierra adds. “And then I’ll tell you more about the difference between human and werebear men.”

I jump in before Sierra takes us to a scary place. “Oh no. Some things are better left unsaid.”

Sierra pretends annoyance. “Fine.” She leans in to Annie and whispers loudly. “I’ll tell you later.”

Annie pats her knee as she yawns. “I have no doubt.”

Brady asks Sierra, “Are you staying here tonight?”

“Nope, Ash is already on his way to get me.”

He teases her. “Tell me the fun isn’t over already?”

“Sorry, big guy, I’ve got another man to torture.” She winks at my husband. “But I bet your wife can find a way to keep you busy.”

Annie gets up and stretches before reaching for dishes. I say, “Don’t. I’ll take care of everything.”

Sierra stands and hugs her. “You’re one of the bravest and kindest souls I know. You deserve happiness, and I’m sure it will come for you.”

“Thanks.” My sister-in-law kisses her on the cheek. “Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to go to bed. I’m exhausted and ready to end this day.”

As Annie climbs the stairs, I get up to gather our snacks to bring to the kitchen. Brady joins me in the task. I recall the dream I had last night about Annie and a man with hair so blond it was almost white. Hoping my vision was a premonition, I smile.

Maybe love is in Annie’s future after all.