Green Bearets: Jarvis (A Paranormal Shape Shifter Romance) (Base Camp Bears Book 3)

by Amelia Jade

  So, instead of the dozen or so shifters that had been in Cloud Lake at any given time prior to the outbreak of war between the two territories, Jarvis had worked to swell those numbers to over three hundred in the days following the initial invasion.

  Those numbers were down to under two hundred now. Fenris had launched a secret attack, a raid designed to knock Cadia out of the war, and Jarvis and his men had been severely outnumbered. Thanks to the work of one of his lieutenants, Aksel Muller, and his mate Nina, they’d been able to stop the raid before it succeeded.

  But the cost had been great. Hundreds of Cadian shifters, including many of his own Green Bearets, the elite bear shifter military arm, had died.

  They were still holding remembrance ceremonies a week later.

  None of that was necessarily relevant to her story though, and he forced himself to focus on every word she said.

  “They took him,” she said, forcing the words out. “And I haven’t seen him since.” She frowned. “I guess I’m here to report a missing person.”

  Jarvis sat back, carefully schooling his face into a neutral position, trying not to give anything away. There were two emotions he was trying to hide from her right then.

  The stronger of the two was regret. This wasn’t the first disappearance he’d heard of. Nearly half a dozen humans had vanished during Fenris’s reign. Most of them had turned up dead. Some hadn’t turned up at all. Jarvis hated the fact that he was likely going to have to tell this woman that her husband or boyfriend, whoever it was, was gone and likely never going to be seen again. If he’d run afoul of an angry Fenris shifter, he was as good as dead.

  How the hell am I supposed to break this woman’s heart?

  And that was the second half of his emotions. He was upset that she had someone already. It was ridiculous, over the top, and completely unrealistic. But he felt it none the same. Jarvis had known her for all of five minutes, but sometimes that was all a shifter needed.

  Down boy. She’s spoken for. She’s not the one for you; you can’t do that. That’s not who you are. Respect both her and the other guy.

  A flash of contempt for anyone who dared touch her flashed through his bear, but Jarvis was ready for it, and clamped down on that emotion as well, trying his best not to let it even flicker through his eyes. His bear’s thoughts were its own. It didn’t necessarily ascribe to human norms and values.

  Walking the line between his animal half and his human side was a tightrope that he’d found didn’t get easier as he got older. If anything, the pull from his beast grew stronger, forcing him to work harder to remain human.

  It was, he figured, probably one of the reasons why he saw so few unmated bear shifters past the age of forty or so. An age he himself was rapidly approaching. If the animal side continued to grow stronger, Jarvis wondered if he’d be able to contain it down the line.

  For now, his bear was safely trapped within his mind, held within an artificial construct of his psyche, an imaginary cave, its entrance blocked by rocks bigger than even the bear could hope to move. It was only let out when he decided, and even then it was held on a tight leash.

  Maybe this war will prevent me from having to realize that dire future of loneliness.

  It wasn’t the first time the thought had echoed around in his head. Nor, he knew, would it be the last.

  Right now, however, he had to focus on Carrie. She needed to be let down gently.

  “So they just took him that day, and you never heard from him again?” he asked, trying to get her to explain it in more detail.

  Hearing it from her own mouth would make it easier to swallow than if he were to tell her bluntly. It was an interesting psychological trick, but one that worked, for whatever reason. He had to hurt her; that was unavoidable. But if he could do it as gently as possible, that would make him feel better.

  “Night,” she corrected. “They came in the middle of the night.”

  “On his way home from work?” he pressed.

  “No,” she said, her voice growing angry. “You’re not listening to me. They broke into my home. Came directly to the room we were in, and even mentioned his name. And my name. They grabbed him and hauled him from the room.”

  Jarvis frowned.

  “They?” he asked, trying to keep his voice level.

  He’d have expected one shifter, maybe two. But judging by her voice…

  “There were six of them that I saw,” she said, shivering as her eyes glossed over, replaying the memory no doubt.

  Now Jarvis’s attention was piqued. Both Fenris and Cadia had modeled their military forces—at least, the ground forces such as bears and wolves—along the same lines. They often operated in small elements of squad size, or half squads.

  Six shifters was half a squad worth.

  “Tell me what you can remember,” he said slowly.

  “They came into the room. One of them spoke, pointing at Angelo. Two of them blocked me, while two of them took him.” She shrugged. “I didn’t see much after that. They were kind of big. I just remember Angelo struggling.” She hesitated. “He was drunk, and I guess didn’t realize that they were shifters. One of them hit him, I remember hearing him cry out, at least, so I figure that’s what happened.”

  He was nodding along as she spoke, making mental notes. Operating in pairs, with one giving orders. That was far too organized to be some friends out for revenge on a human who had wronged them.

  This had been a targeted attack.

  “Has there been any contact since?” he asked. “Anything at all? Demands, ransom notes, threats?”

  Carrie shook her head, her hair bouncing with the vigor. “No,” she said without having to think about it. “Absolutely nothing at all. Just silence.”

  Her voice wavered slightly on the last word, but her demeanor didn’t change. She was back in control now. Jarvis admired the way she was forcing herself to confront this head-on. Many humans would be scarred for life by even the sight of shifters after something like that. But Carrie had decided this was weird enough to confront her fears and report it to him.

  “Pardon the questions, ma’am,” he said. “But are you wealthy? Is he wealthy?”

  “Call me Carrie, please. Ma’am makes me feel old. But the answer is no. I am not. I don’t think Angelo is either.” She flashed him a nervous smile.

  He barked a laugh. A joke. She was making a joke, in light of all this.

  Damn, she was impressive.

  “Very well, Carrie,” he replied. “Are you part of something secret, something they can use him against you?”

  She shook her head. “No, I just work at the power plant, I promise. I’m not some government agent.” She shrugged. “If I were, I probably wouldn’t be reporting this to you anyway.”

  “Fair point,” he replied. “But that doesn’t make this any easier. And this happened early in the night? Middle of the night?”

  “Like, two or three in the morning,” she said.

  Just as Cadia had been making the final press against the Fenris forces. For some reason, on their way out of town, they’d stopped to take this guy. The question was, why? Who was he, what did he do, or know?

  There was more to this than he could pick up on at first glance.

  Making a command decision, he stood up abruptly from the plastic folding table that served as his desk. It was amazing what a black cloth could do to make it more appealing.

  “Is something wrong?” Carrie asked, also rising.

  “Have you cleaned up or anything since this happened?” he asked, figuring she’d probably had it all repaired.

  “No. I’ve been staying at my sister’s,” she said. “I want to sell the place.” Carrie looked away. “I don’t feel safe there anymore.”

  This time Jarvis did reach out a hand, laying it on her shoulder. “That’s nothing to be ashamed of,” he told her. “Nothing at all.”

  Carrie’s hand rose slightly, then fell away as she turned back to look at him. “Thank yo
u.”

  The room shrunk in size as her voice washed over him, now a box little bigger than the space between the two of them. He felt a deep-seated urge to pull her closer to him. To put his arms around her and reassure her that everything would work out in the end.

  The unfortunate truth was, however, that it probably wouldn’t be okay. The last thing he wanted to do was build up some false hope within her.

  “I’d like to come by and take a look around, if that’s okay?” he asked.

  Jarvis wasn’t a detective by trade, but something about this seemed fishy to him. He might not find a damn thing, but he didn’t want to dismiss it outright. There was the possibility that this Angelo might have come across something he shouldn’t have. Something Fenris didn’t want him knowing about.

  If there was such a secret, Jarvis wanted to know about it too. If it would help keep Cadia safe, he would take the time out of his busy schedule to look into it.

  “Sure. Just tell me when. I’ve been off work on stress leave,” she admitted, her face flushing.

  He longed to tell her it was nothing to be embarrassed about, but Jarvis understood. There was still a large stigma against mental illness and trauma. In shifter culture they treated it much differently, with more acceptance. Living with another entity in your head sort of forced their hand.

  The humans, however, still looked down upon that sort of thing, which was unfortunate. Someone like Carrie shouldn’t feel ashamed about the fact that she wasn’t able to immediately cope with the trauma associated with having six superhumanly strong and very large men break into your house, the home that is supposed to be your safe haven.

  “Unfortunately I cannot clear my schedule for today. But does tomorrow around midday work for you? Say, one o’clock?”

  Carrie nodded. “Yes, it does.”

  She reached over his desk and grabbed a pen and piece of blank paper. “Here’s the address,” she said, scribbling it down for him.

  “Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow then,” he said, feeling a thrill of excitement race through his system at the idea of seeing her once more.

  Stop it. She’s taken. She may be gorgeous, but you need to move on already.

  “See you later, Jarvis,” she said, with just a long enough pause before saying his name that he knew she’d been trying to decide whether to say it or not.

  What did that even mean? His mind kept replaying the words over and over as he escorted her out of the motel that served as the Green Bearet headquarters within Cloud Lake.

  He didn’t know, but his bear was going crazy trying to tell him he should find out.

  Mission first, he told it. Mission first.

  Wasn’t that the story of his life?

  Chapter Two

  Carrie

  “Charlotte Marie Suter,” her sister said as she walked down the stairs. “Are you going on a date?!”

  “Don’t call me that!” she exclaimed. “You know I hate it.”

  Her real name was Charlotte, but for as long as she could remember, she’d gone by Carrie. The only people who ever used her full name were her mother and her sister. And only if she was in trouble.

  Andrea laughed. “Well, are you?”

  “No,” she replied, shaking her head. “Why?”

  Her sister looked her up and down. “Well, let’s start with the fact that you’re wearing a dress. And you have makeup on. And you washed your hair. You aren’t going to work. So, where are you headed off to looking like a million bucks?”

  “To meet with Jarvis—I mean, Major Ed…” she faltered, forgetting his last name.

  Shit. Now she’s never going to believe me.

  “Uh-huh,” Andrea said with a snort. “So, who is Jarvis? ‘Cause he’s sure getting ‘afternoon date’ Carrie, and not ‘police investigation Carrie.’”

  “Do I really look that good?” she asked, brightening.

  “Yes. But I’m curious why, after all this time being terrified of shifters, you’re now dressing up to see one?”

  Carrie glared at her sister. “I’m not going on a date! I just want to make a good impression. I made a bad one yesterday, and I want him to take this seriously.”

  Andrea sighed. “Sis, come on. I get it that you think you’re doing the right thing. But even you must know that Angelo was a douchebag.”

  Shoulders slumping, she leaned against the wall. “I know ‘Rea,” she said. “I know. But he was still a person. This is the right thing to do!”

  “He almost hit you! They probably heard him yelling at you and broke in to be kind to you. They did you a favor! And now you want this shifter to go and find him for you, to bring him back into your life?”

  “He’s not coming back into my life,” she said, her voice quiet and firm. “I made that clear to him just before they came and took him. We were over. Done. I wanted him out.”

  Andrea relented and reached out to hug her sister. “I know, I’m sorry. You just know I hated him from the start. But you’re right, even if I wished him dead at the time, I don’t actually desire his death.”

  “Exactly,” Carrie said. “I’m not doing this because of my feelings for him. I’m doing it because it’s the right thing to do. And because if the same thing happened to me, I would hope that even someone who I’d hurt or who disliked me would do the same.”

  “You always were the better of us when it came to morals and ethics,” Andrea teased.

  “I know,” Carrie replied, hugging her sister tight again.

  “Well, have fun on your date then,” Andrea teased once more, trying to lighten the mood.

  “It’s not a date,” she ground out. “I’m just taking him to my place to show him around.”

  Carrie hung her head even before she’d finished speaking, waiting for Andrea to finish howling with laughter.

  “That is not how I intended that to come out,” she said at last.

  “Of course not!” Andrea said, her sides still shaking.

  “I mean, he wanted to see the site of the break in, to see if he could pick up on anything weird. Like any reason why they might have broken in.”

  “Get out of here,” Andrea said with a last snorting burst of laughter. “Take your pretty dress and makeup’d self and go show this shifter person your house.”

  “Screw you, Sis,” she said, rolling her eyes.

  “Love you too Car’, love you too.”

  Carrie smiled and put on her jacket.

  ***

  She stood on the sidewalk, looking up at the three-story townhouse that had once been her safe zone, her sanctuary.

  Now it had taken on a haunting aspect, a specter of fear and terror that she doubted would ever go away completely.

  Carrie would never sleep in that house ever again.

  Jarvis wasn’t visible on the street, and the door was still locked. Looking at her phone, she noted she’d arrived ten minutes before their appointed time. That would explain it.

  The day was much chillier, a thick gray cloud cover having moved in. It didn’t look like it was going to rain, but it certainly dropped the temperature a number of degrees. Carrie didn’t think she wanted to wait out in the cold.

  That only left one option.

  Fuck.

  Walking up to the front door she pulled the slim silver key from her pocket, rolling it back and forth between her fingers as she looked from it to the lock, and back again.

  Did she go inside?

  It wasn’t the first time she would have been back inside. But each time her sister or someone else had been with her. Never once had she gone inside alone.

  Jarvis would be along shortly, she knew. She didn’t want him to think she was some kind of weakling who couldn’t confront her fears.

  Setting her shoulders, she pinched the key sharply and jammed it into the lock, twisting it violently until it opened.

  “You can do this, girl,” she said, quietly encouraging herself.

  Shaking fingers gripped the doorknob, and with a deep
breath she turned, pushing it open before her.

  The interior was dark. All the blinds and curtains had been pulled and the lights turned off. There was still plenty of her belongings there, and Carrie didn’t want to advertise the fact that nobody was living there.

  Now she reached out, muscle memory guiding her hand to the lightswitch, flicking it on.

  The three-story townhouse didn’t boast a lot of space, but she was proud of the sight before her. The kitchen was straight ahead, with a sitting room to the left, all open concept. Ahead to the right, down a hallway, were the stairs and a small washroom.

  The door closed behind her and she moved inside, running her fingers over the top of the high-backed chairs in the kitchen that cozied up to the little island. She felt the coolness of the granite countertops and gazed lovingly at the art on the walls.

  A lot of time had been put into making the house the way she wanted it.

  At one point it had truly felt like it deserved the word “home.” Much of her life, Carrie had always referred to where she lived as “her place.” It was never “home”; that was where she had grown up, where her parents still lived.

  Until she’d bought this place, with her own hard-earned money and no help from anyone besides the bank. Her eyes misted over as she recalled all the hard work she’d put into renovating and painting it, adding her own touches to the small details, like light sconces, the handles on her kitchen cabinets, and how she’d proudly put together the entertainment unit that dominated the far wall all by herself. It had become her house. Her home.

  Now all she felt was cold. The sanctity of her home had been violated that night. Would she ever be able to feel comfortable somewhere again? Or would she always be looking over her shoulder, expecting someone to come through the doorway, breaking it down in the middle of the night?

  Hunched over the island, alone in her own nightmare, Carrie let the tears that had been gathering fall. There were no stuffed-nose sobs. Those emotions had all run their course with her. Now she simply shed tears for the loss of something she’d worked so hard to achieve. Something that had been taken from her without her say.