The Bear's Hired Mate: A Paranormal Bear Shifter Romance (15 page)

“You know what, Vincent, I need a little air. I can’t have this conversation right now - it’s too much for me to reason through.” Jane strode to the front door and grabbed her purse.

“Jane wait! Just listen to me, it’s not safe!” Vincent tried to call after her, but the door slammed in her wake.

Vincent dropped into his seat and sighed. Checking the time, he realized that Jane was probably just headed to grab a latte before going to open Midnight Ink. In all of their fights, Jane had never once shirked her job. She’d put him through hell many a day, but she was always there and there wasn’t enough time for her to go outside the Casino before the day started. Vincent would just have to try the conversation again later.

Jane stood in the Starbucks line awaiting her triple venti mocha Frappuccino, frantically texting Carrie. She needed to vent her anger before starting into eight hours with that man. Jane knew she was unloading faster than Carrie could respond, but she just needed to let someone know what had happened. She needed someone else to assure her that her feelings were not abnormal.

Carrie did what any best friend would do, and assured Jane that she was right. Then she suggested that perhaps Vincent was receiving pressure of a different kind that not all werebears get during the mating process. In fact, only one werebear a generation gets the type of pressure Vincent was under. Jane knew Carrie was right, and as her mind cleared, she wondered if there wasn’t more behind Vincent’s insistence that they get married ASAP…

Jane looked down as she heard a ping indicating a new text.

Carrie: “I got the front desk today. Spend a little time alone.”

Jane looked up at the baristas brewing the caffeine in front of her, considering. Ping, new text.

Carrie: “Seriously, don’t go back to the apartment to wallow and study. Shop. Get a pedicure. Bring me lunch for my break and we’ll call it even.”

Jane smiled, thinking this was just the day she needed, one all to herself. Swiping her drink when it was done, Jane walked out onto the Casino floor and turned toward the front entrance and its taxi stand. At the very least, she’d get that mani/pedi before grabbing lunch and relieving Carrie of the front desk job. At the taxi stand, she pulled out her phone to thank Carrie for taking over, when someone tapped her shoulder. Turning to see what was happening, Jane never saw the person’s face, because suddenly the world went black.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Flipping her hair, Carrie skipped the greeting, “You need to lighten up on her you know. This is all a massive change for her.”

Vincent sighed, of course Jane had told Carrie everything. Maybe a member of the Clan would understand better. “I really wish it didn’t have to be this way, but things are beyond my control...you have to know that, right?”

Carrie stared at him for a long moment. “Yes. I get that things are hard for you.” Carrie paused, flipping her long dark hair before she continued, “I convinced Jane of the same thing. Remember to thank me later that she’s out right now, getting her nails done rather than putting you through hell here at the front desk.”

“Thank you.”

“Oh, don’t thank me too much, buddy, I still think you’re in the wrong. There is no reason why, even as First Son, you need to get married within the first year of your mating ritual. Giving her less than four months is downright crazy!”

Vincent scrubbed his face. “There are extenuating circumstances.”

“Uh huh. I’m sure I’ll be hearing all about them after you try having a real conversation with the girl...you’ve put her through the wringer lately, and she knows she’s not aware of everything that’s going on. Now,
I
don’t need to know all about it. But for the sake of your relationship, if I were you, I’d tell Jane about it.”

Vincent gave Carrie a nod. “Yeah, I think it’s time too. I feel like I’ve just made a mess of it all, trying to keep stuff a secret. I thought I could fix it all without it impacting Jane, but instead the secrets have just blown it all to shit.”

“The shit has definitely hit the fan, my friend,” Carrie said giving Vincent a long look, “but I don’t think you’ve done any lasting damage. Jane loves you. She’s trying to use all of her female rationalization skills to wrap her head around your demands...it’s just that she’s hit a wall with them. Listen, I made Jane promise to bring me a sandwich for lunch. I’m sure she’s planning on replacing me at that point, but I think I’ll stick around. You don’t have an afternoon appointment - do you think you could swing a relaxed afternoon with Jane? Spend time at the pool or something...you guys need a date night.”

Vincent walked over and pulled Carrie into a big bear hug. “Thank you for being such a good friend, Carrie. I know Jane needs it, but sometimes I forget I need it, too.”

“Aww, you’re welcome, Vincent. I love you both.”

Vincent dropped a kiss on the top of Carrie’s head and turned when the front door opened to admit his first client. Excited for the tat and energized by the conversation with Carrie, Vincent decided that today he was finally going to fix things with Jane.

---   ---   ---

The first thing Jane noticed when she started to wake up was the smell of incense burning. It was a sweet smell, like flower petals burning and vaguely, she wondered why Vincent would be burning incense. Trying to itch her nose, Jane slowly realized that her hand was stuck - maybe it was asleep. But it was odd, as she continued tugging, Jane realized she couldn’t move it at all...

Jane’s eyes flashed open and she pulled at the restraints on her hands but to no avail. She was unable to move them.

Stifling a scream, she looked behind her and saw that they were strapped together with duct tape, as were her feet. Trying to quell the panic rising inside her, Jane frantically looked around the room trying to make sense of it all.

Her eyes bounced off blank walls and empty shelving as she tried to remember what had happened. The last thing Jane had a memory of was pulling out her phone to assure Carrie that she would be back to give her a lunch break mid-afternoon...and then...there was nothing. Jane realized she had no memories until she’d woken up a few moments ago taped to a chair.

The room around her gave few clues. It seemed to be some type of meeting room. The walls were a neutral shade of sand and the table in front of her was made of thick dark wood that seemed to match the heavy chair she was sitting on. The walls and shelving unit opposite her were bare, but freshly clean, as if they’d just been cleared. There wasn’t even a paperclip to pull a miracle off with.

Trying to see out the windows to orient herself, Jane found that she was too high to see anything more than the sky, and she didn’t hear the hustle and bustle of the strip. The biggest clue she could find was that the sunlight indicated that it was late afternoon. Which meant that even though she’d lost hours of time, it probably wasn’t enough that anyone would be looking for her. She would have just missed giving Carrie her lunch break - and Jane hadn’t even had the chance to text her friend that she was coming into Midnight Ink to do that.

Tasting the bile rising in her throat, Jane rued the day she had turned down Xavier’s offer to teach her self-defense in their downtime in the shop. Jane had been far too comfortable with the idea that she was mated to a werebear to worry about protecting herself. What type of feminist did that make her? Not a very good one, she supposed.

As her thoughts cleared, Jane focused on her situation. She could still smell the scent of the burning incense and now that she was concentrating, she could hear the sound of footsteps, though strangely, there was no murmuring of voices. Jane figured she’d been waking up for about a half an hour now – from what must have been a drug which was obviously leaving her system - and for all the action she heard coming from the room outside, there was no communication. Jane figured her best bet was to stay silent until she knew what was going on, and pray like hell that between Vincent’s instincts and Carrie’s friendship, someone would realize something was wrong.

---   ---   ---

Vincent had gone over the scheduled time with his tattoo. When he had presented the client with the sketch he’d drawn up as a guide for the tat, they’d both realized that it wasn’t big enough for the area. The client was an up and coming MMA fighter and the shoulder piece was a serious choice for his image. As someone who fought shirtless on a daily basis, the art the fighter wanted placed in such a prominent area was going to have to be tight. The drawing Vincent was beginning with was just too small for its purpose.

After an hour of re-drawing and some helpful criticism from the fighter, they were both satisfied with the result. Vincent was happy to see that not only was his client satisfied, but the art would serve to promote the shop well, through the MMA circuit. With a man-hug and a fist bump, Vincent wished the guy well and turned around to see Carrie staring at him with the stink-eye yet again. Vincent didn’t know if he was angry or exasperated.

“What? What did I do now? Have you and Jane conspired to find something else I’ve done beyond ruining our engagement, romance, and lives?”

“No, Jane hasn’t said anything to me. That’s the problem - I figured you said something to her...she must be hiding out alone somewhere. I was going to try and sneak off to find her in the suite, but it turns out this front desk thing involves more work than you would think. I hope you pay her well.”

Vincent crossed his arms over his chest. “I pay her nicely - haven’t you seen her shoe collection?”

“Hmm. You have a point,” Carrie allowed, “but what did you say that sent her into radio silence. It takes a lot to keep her this quiet…”

Vincent let his arms drop to his sides and frowned. “Carrie, I’ve been back there tattooing for hours, you just saw me walk the client out. I haven’t peed yet, much less texted anyone. I didn’t say anything. I thought you said she was bringing you lunch.”  Vincent looked at his phone. “That should have been almost an hour ago.”

Carrie frowned. “I mean, I guess I asked her to bring me lunch, but she never texted back to say  that she was going to bring it in.”

Looking at her own phone she confirmed, “Yeah, the last text I have from her is at 11:25 and it was about her being less angry about you. I texted back about how she should take time for herself and grab me lunch, but I guess she never responded. I just assumed that’s what she was doing.”

Tendrils of panic climbed up Vincent’s spine, “So you haven’t heard from her in over five hours? And the last time you did Jane didn’t say where she was going or what her plans were?”

Carrie was shaking her head, but Vincent didn’t see - he was already on the phone with security to have them double check where Jane was at 11:25 and if she was back on the premises. A quick scan using facial recognition showed that Jane had been at the Taxi stand at 11:25 and had not been back on the property since then. A gap in the system revealed that the Taxi stand had a rotating camera, so while they could confirm where she was standing at 11:25 she must have gotten in a taxi by 11:27 when the camera circled around again.

When Vincent shared the information with Carrie, she suggested that perhaps Jane was just out and about for the day, but she didn’t sound convinced and Vincent was downright terrified. It just wasn’t like Jane not to communicate for so long. The woman liked to talk - especially after a fight - and almost six hours of silence was the final nail in the coffin. Vincent knew she’d been kidnapped. This was exactly what Sitting Bear had threatened to do. Now it was up to him and the Mezzanotte Board to find where she was - because he knew those bastards, the Longclaw Clan, had taken her.

---   ---   ---

Jane’s eyes fluttered open again to the pitch black of the room. Not too long after she’d woken up the first time, Jane had smelled the sweet incense getting stronger and she had quickly drifted off to sleep again. Like before, Jane freaked out for a moment when she realized she was restrained and alone; this time in the dark.

The only differences she could see as her eyes adjusted to the lack of light were that the day was over and the smell of the burnt petals was now just an afterthought. The sickly sweet scent had been replaced with something more smoky.

As the drugs cleared her system, Jane could smell the very real scent of a bonfire. It was disconcertingly terrifying from inside what she figured was a high-level conference room. Jane couldn’t help but let out a scream of panic. She was alone, bound, and in a burning building - she was sure of it - and the terror took over.

Screaming and bucking on the chair until it tipped over, Jane found herself on her side, face to face with the bright crack of the doorway. The air on the floor was crisp and clean and the surface of the tile wasn’t the least bit hot. Between the fall and the cool flooring, Jane realized that she hadn’t been in as much danger as she had feared, though she’d undoubtedly made it worse. Not only was her right arm now in a lot of pain, but where there had been a busy quiet on the other side of the door all day, now there was scrambling and shouting and the tread of heavy footsteps were coming her way.

The door burst open and the sudden flood of light blinded Jane. Flinching away from its abrasiveness, she heard the footsteps slow and stop inches from her face. Delaying opening her eyes for a beat, she pretended that if she simply didn’t open them, the monsters wouldn’t be there. It was a lovely thought, but with a deep breath, she steeled herself to see the worst.

Opening her eyes, she was confronted with a disconcerting sight.

There was a massive Native American man standing in front of her in what Jane could only guess was full war paint. His hair was the only anachronism - it was cut short and, if she wasn’t mistaken, highlighted. As her eyes trailed back down the man, she noted that his entire face was painted white with black and red highlights on his cheekbones, chin, and forehead. His chest seemed to be covered with a chest-piece made of tiny beads that created intricate graphic patterns. His pants were a soft brown leather and they were also accented with beading and feathers. Finally, his feet were covered with matching moccasins, which proved just how large the man must be, as his footsteps had sounded like he’d been wearing steel-toed boots.

He reached down to Jane and she tried to make herself as small as possible while taped to a chair. But the man didn’t touch her, instead he lifted her, using the sides of the chair and flipped her back upright as Jane’s head spun. Blinking some more, she brought the full picture into focus. Behind the man stood at least seven other warriors similarly dressed but without the showy chest piece. Jane took this to mean that he was important.

“It’s good that you’re awake, we’re almost ready for you,” he said with a wolfish smile.

“Well, I don’t believe I’m ready for you,” Jane responded with bluster.