The Bear's Forbidden Wolf: A Hot Paranormal Fantasy Saga with Witches, Werewolves and Werebears (Weres and Witches of Silver Lake Book 4) (2 page)

“Special talent?”

She inhaled, fearing this might be the one thing that made Blair pull away. “Remember my dad was Wendayan?”

“Yes.”

“When I was maybe five, he was standing right in front of me laughing, and a split second later, he was gone.” She snapped her fingers. “Poof.”

“Was he a magician?”

“Close. As you know, all Wendayans have some kind of magic. My dad could disappear—though only for a short time. Mind you, he was still there. It was just that no one could see him. If I reached out, I could feel him.”

Blair sucked in her breath. “Really? I’ve never heard of anyone being able to do that.”

“I didn’t know anyone could either until I saw him do it, but apparently, I inherited that talent too.”

“Are you shitting me? Show me!” Blair clapped her hands.

Ainsley shook her head. “I haven’t tried it in years. Besides, it really wipes me out.”

“How come you never told me?” The hurt in Blair’s voice cut her.

Ainsley looked around, trying to come up with a good reason. “It was something I did in Scotland. I came to America for a fresh start, which is why I haven’t practiced.” She leaned forward. “I tried to tell you many times, but then I chickened out. I thought you might think I was some kind of freak. It was bad enough that I belonged to a group that was your Clan’s sworn enemy, but being able to disappear made me even more of an anomaly.”

Blair clasped Ainsley’s hands. “I never would have thought less of you. Your magic doesn’t define you. I just never thought a shifter had magic—unless she or he had mated with a Wendayan.”

“Mixed breeds are a strange lot.”

Blair glanced to the side, as if trying to assimilate all the new information then nodded to the letter. “Are you going to open Shamus’s letter or what?” She grinned. “Do you think he’s writing to profess his undying love?”

“Hardly.” Ainsley was happy that conversation was over. In truth, it went a lot better than she could have hoped. As she ran a finger along the edge of the envelope, she spotted the date stamped on the outside. “Crap. He mailed this over three weeks ago.” She ripped open one end then shook out the letter. When she spotted his beautiful penmanship a warm, fuzzy feeling filled her. Ainsley held it up and smiled. “Pretty, right?”

Blair whistled. “A man wrote that?”

“We were schooled in calligraphy, but Shamus in particular enjoyed writing. He’s such a gentle soul.” She held up a finger. “Don’t get me wrong. When provoked, he would fight and do a damned fine job. In fact, even though he worked in a bank over in Scotland, he helped train other shifters so they’d be prepared if and when they had to fight the Changelings.”

“Wasn’t that a conflict of interest between you two, since you’re one of them?”

“Not really. Shamus could see through to the real me.”

Blair picked up her yogurt cup. “You sure you aren’t hiding some big romance from me?”

“No. I’ve told you everything. As for Shamus, we’re just really good friends—friends who haven’t seen each other in eight years. Now do you want to hear what he wrote?”

Blair leaned forward. “Absolutely. I love juicy stuff.”

Ainsley shook her head but failed to keep the smile from her face.
“Dear Ainsley, I hope this letter finds you well. First, I must apologize for not writing sooner, but it seems you forgot to give me your address in America.”

Blair cocked a brow. “Ainsley?”

“I told you. I needed a clean break. My parents, as well as my two stepbrothers, were well aware how much he meant to me. If they thought Shamus could find me, then they might have used him to get to me, and I couldn’t take that chance.”

While her parents had helped finance her college and had the address of the dorm where she lived the first two years, they’d never written. After she moved in with Blair, Ainsley didn’t send them a change of address.

“I’m sorry. That must have been tough to lose him—or rather lose contact with him.”

“It was, but he was always in my thoughts.”

Blair nodded to the paper in her hand. “Finish reading.”

She located her place.
“I had a dickens of a time finding you, lass. But you know me, I don’t give up easily. I’m proud to see you’re in graduate school. Yes, I pulled in a few favors to locate you. I have some relatives in America, most of whom I’ve never met, so I thought it was time to connect with my family and visit you.”
Her heart pounded.

“He’s coming to the United States to see you? I wouldn’t call that merely a friendship. You sure you two aren’t mates?” Blair asked.

Ainsley shook her head. “No. We’ve never even kissed.” Besides, she’d never take the chance that her genes might taint his if they mated. Her father had learned the hard way what happened when a non-Changeling mated with a Changeling.

Blair leaned back in her seat. “I don’t know. There may be more than meets the eye here. Perhaps he was waiting for you to grow up.”

Ainsley let out a big breath. She’d heard that a shifter didn’t feel the mate pull until they were older. Maybe Blair was right. Eighteen had been too young. “Do you see why I haven’t mentioned him before?”

Her best friend laughed. “Did he say when he was coming?”

As she read the last few lines of the letter, she had to think what day it was. “It’s today. He’s flying to the US today!”

“Uh-oh. Do you think he’ll go to Atlanta, thinking you’re still there?”

Her stomach dropped. “I don’t know.” She flipped over the envelope to check the address. Her heart sank. It had been addressed to their place in Atlanta and then forwarded. “I’m hoping he plans to visit his relatives first. I’ll have to figure out how to get ahold of him.”

“Call Marybeth. She can give him your new address if he shows up at our old place.”

“Good idea.” Marybeth Randall lived next door to where she and Blair had shared an apartment. Ainsley checked her phone and dialed their friend. When it went to voicemail she told Marybeth what happened, and that if she spotted a six-foot five, redheaded burly man with a funny accent, to give him her new address. She then rattled it off. Ainsley set her phone on the coffee table. “All set.”

“I can’t wait to meet this Shamus fellow. He sounds really nice.”

Ainsley smiled. “He is, but don’t get too attached. I doubt he’s staying longer than a few days.”

“Well, darn.” Blair grinned then nodded to the letter. “Is that all he wrote?”

“Almost.” She scanned the last two lines. “He just said that he couldn’t wait to see me as it’s been too long.” She swallowed. “He signed it, Love Shamus.”

Blair grinned. Not good.

*

“Jackson, come help
me take the lid off of the pickle jar,” his mother called from the kitchen.

Jackson Murdoch leveraged himself out of his dad’s recliner and went in to help his mom. When he saw the three plates of hors d’oeuvres and a ton of desserts, he shook his head. “I know you said my cousin was a big man, but Mom, he’s not going to eat all this stuff.”

“I’m doing it for my sister, goddess rest her soul. Moira always said her son could eat a horse.”

A knock sounded on the front door, and a smile broke out on his mom’s face. “He’s here.” She wiped her hands on her apron then slipped it off. “Well, go answer it,” she said, shooing him out.

“You come with me. He knows you better.” Jackson had met him one time when he was eight after Aunt Moira had come over to the States with her husband and young son.

“Dan? Where are you?” his mom called out as she hustled out of the kitchen and rushed past the dining room table. Striding up to the front door, she shook her head. “Where is your father when I need him?”

Jackson knew better than to answer.

When she pulled open the door, the cold air rushed in, and his mom gasped. “Shamus? Is that you behind that beard?”

“Hi, Aunt Felicia. Thought I’d give it a try.” His grin was wider than the door.

“Come in, come in. It’s chilly out there.”

“This isn’t cold.” They hugged, and when the big bear of a man lifted Mom off her feet, Jackson thought he’d have to intervene. His cousin finally set her down and ran his gaze from top to bottom. “It’s so good to see ye. Why ye haven’t changed a bit. Still a lightweight, I see.”

Jackson bet his mom loved that since she was always on a diet.

“Aw. You don’t need to sweet talk me.” She turned to Jackson. “You probably don’t remember, but this is my youngest son, Jackson.”

Jackson stuck his hand out to the man who was a good two inches taller and a lot heavier than he was. He wore dark blue jeans, work boots, and a plaid shirt that looked close to bursting. Jackson bet his cousin would be a beast in a fight. “Nice to finally meet you—again.” Jackson didn’t expect the bear hug that followed.

“Can’t wait to get to know ye better too.” Shamus looked around. “Where’s Uncle Daniel and the rest of the crew?”

“Your uncle will be here in a moment,” his mom said.

“And Kalan?” Shamus asked.

“Kalan’s still at work.” Jackson faced his mom. “You did tell Blair about the visit, didn’t you?”

She glanced to the side. “I don’t remember. When Shamus wrote us a month ago to say he was coming, Blair hadn’t moved back here yet. I told your dad to let her know.”

Jackson held up a hand. “I’ll give her a call right now.”

“Before you do, bring in Shamus’s suitcase while I get your cousin something to drink.”

“Is your car locked?” he asked Shamus.

“No, but leave the bag. I’ll get it later.” Shamus faced his aunt. “Now where’s that drink ye promised? I’m a might thirsty.”

His mother smiled. “Come with me. I figured after that long flight, you’d be hungry too.”

“Ye can count on that,” Shamus said with a grin.

Jackson liked his cousin. He was open and honest. What a shame they hadn’t reconnected sooner. As Jackson headed through the living room toward the sliding glass door that led outside and to his dad’s workshop, he dialed Kalan.

“Is the guest of honor there?” Kalan asked.

“He is.”

“And?”

Jackson chuckled. “You’ll like him. Too bad he’s some kind of banker. If he had any law enforcement background, I know you’d try to recruit him at the sheriff’s department. Half the criminals in town would take one look at him and run. The man is huge.”

“Good MacLeod stock.”

“You got that right. Are you going to make it to dinner?” Jackson asked.

“On my way there now.”

“What about Elana?”

Kalan let out an audible sigh. “I’m afraid my mate will be absent tonight. She’s creating some arrangements for a wedding and has to set it all up. She’ll come over if she finishes early.”

“Great.”

When his mother had first announced that their cousin from Scotland was coming for a visit, Jackson hadn’t been overly excited to meet him. Shamus was kind of scrawny as a kid with bright red hair. Jackson always pictured him growing up to be some stuffy, conservative man. Boy had he been wrong. Now that he’d met him, Jackson wished he’d found the time—and the funds—to take a trip to Scotland to meet all of his relatives.

Just as he was about to step outside to find his dad, his father exited his workshop and headed his way. Mom must have telepathed him.

Dad stomped his feet on the outside porch before coming in. “Shamus is here?”

“Yup. They’re in the kitchen.”

Seconds later, his mom came out of the kitchen carrying a tray of hors d’oeuvres, followed by Shamus who had two large trays.

“There you are, Daniel. Take off your coat and join us.” She waved both of them over.

His father strode toward them and gave Shamus a hug. “I swear you’ve grown since we last saw you, boy.”

Shamus laughed. “Only in me belly.” He patted it.

Jackson joined them. “Kalan is on the way. I was just about to call Blair to let her know.”

His mom and dad started in on Shamus, asking him a ton of questions. Not needing to disturb them, he stepped into the living room and called his sister.

She answered on the first ring. “Hey, stranger.”

He laughed. “You’re the one who’s busy working all the time. Listen, I think Dad might have forgotten to mention that one of our cousins from Scotland was coming to town.”

“He never said anything about it. Have I met this person?”

“When you were seven.” Only their parents had flown over to Scotland two years ago when Aunt Moira had passed away, but none of the kids had joined them. “He just arrived.”

Blair covered her hand over the phone. His sister must be speaking with Ainsley, who used to live over in Scotland. “What’s our cousin’s first name?”

Did it matter? “You don’t remember?”

“We have a lot of cousins.”

That they did. “His name is Shamus. Mom wants you to come over now for dinner and meet him.” His sister didn’t respond. “Blair?”

“I think we may have a problem.”

‡