Santa Claws (BBW Paranormal Shifter Romance)

by Sasha Winter

  When they arrived, Callahan showed them his collection proudly. Most of it was copies of historic texts and pictures of local families now known to be shifters. Elise brought out the necklace, carefully stored in a small plastic bag, and handed it to Callahan.

  “This was found in the victim’s hand,” she said. “Does it ring any bells with you?

  Callahan’s entire body vibrated visibly with his surprise as he took the necklace. “Oh, goodness,” he said and looked up at them. He handed the necklace back to Elise and then hurried across the room to a bookshelf where he pulled out a leather bound book that smelled so strongly of age and dust that Erik almost sneezed when he flipped it open.

  “This book isn’t available in the archives,” Callahan told them excitedly as he turned pages and scanned them quickly. “Private collection donation. I don't mean to brag, but I've got a few connections. Look, that there! The case two hundred years ago, that exact necklace was in the victim’s hand as well!”

  Elise looked at Erik with bright eyes. “Can I borrow that book?” she asked Callahan, almost vibrating with her own excitement.

  Callahan nodded enthusiastically. “Of course, my dear,” he said. He closed the book, pressing it into her hands. “There are some notes that accompany it in the other room. We can get those for you on the way out as well.”

  “Thank you, James,” Erik said, clapping the other man on the shoulder. “They’ll help us a lot.”

  He glanced up in surprise at the sound of footsteps and saw Frank, Callahan’s assistant, hovering in the doorway with an armful of boxes and a faint smile on his face. He was mostly staring at Erik, for the most part, and Erik looked back at him before Frank nodded, said a very brief ‘hello’ and continued through the room without introducing himself to Elise. Aside from the lack of introduction, he’d been polite enough, but he smelled faintly of some distant scents Erik couldn't quite place. It was an odd mix of scents.

  “Don’t mind Frank,” Callahan said and waved his hand. “I think his girlfriend just dumped him. Now, come, come. Let me get those notes for you. Tell me more about your position back home, Elise. You mentioned that you had a Native American shifter collection? I find Native American lore so fascinating.”

  Erik followed the two chattering historians into the other room, feeling vaguely uneasy and unable to pin down exactly why.

  Erik briefly entertained the thought of asking Elise to a casual dinner, but she seemed far too intent on getting back to her room to read over the book. So he dropped her at her hotel, bid her goodnight, and headed for the diner. It was all you can eat fish and chips night and he definitely couldn't say no to that combination.

  After his third plate and second soda, Erik started to slow down and listen to the conversations around him. The diner was full, brimming with happily-chatting families and couples. He focused, heightening his sense of hearing to that of his inner panther, and he listened for key words. Shifter, murder, big cat. He heard them all, as loudly as if the speakers were sitting across from him. He took another bite.

  “I heard it was a shapeshifter what got him,” said a guy in plaid across the diner. “Feel so damn bad for his mom ‘n pop. It’s fuckin’ Christmas soon, after all, and now they’re all alone. I hope they catch that sonuvabitch.”

  Erik left the diner feeling sated for the moment, if a little uneasy by the ever-worsening public opinion regarding shifters in the town, and hurried home to log on to PurrfectMates. He had to admit, he was on edge with the hope of hearing from this mystery girl. To his delight, there was a message waiting for him.

  Chapter 5

  The book and notes that James Callahan had allowed Elise to take were absolutely fascinating. She’d had her head buried in the book from the moment they’d said goodbye to James and Erik had guided her back to the cruiser to drop her at the hotel again.

  Dot had brought up a light dinner for her that she’d picked at in between pages from the book and notes. She’d checked in with Susan and Donald as well.

  Donald was delighted to hear from her and launched into a spiel about everything she’d missed. She hadn’t been gone for long enough for it to be anything notable but Donald had done his best all the same. “Not to worry, I locked your door so Reginald doesn’t upset the order of your desk again,” he assured her. She’d had to bite back laughter at the thought of the weekend cleaner who she’d once told Donald must have rearranged her desk.

  When she said goodnight to Donald, she’d then called Susan, who had answered on the second ring and immediately demanded all the gory details of her time in Sawmill Grove so far.

  “Don’t you dare just bury yourself in the books,” Susan had said warningly when they were saying goodbye and goodnight.

  Elise had laughed even though she knew Susan was right. They’d been friends for far too long for her to not know exactly what Elise was like. “You try and meet up with Mr. Mysterious Santa shifter too, or flirt with that hunk of a sheriff they’ve got you working with. All work and no play means Elise won't get none, remember.”

  Elise had sputtered at her for a few seconds, unable to muster a reply to that and Susan had just laughed, hanging up after a bright, “Go get some, girl!”

  So she logged on to PurrfectMates and sent mystery man a message before continuing her reading. She opened the book back up to the page where she’d left off. She wound up deeply immersed in a chapter on local shifter family lines, and she noticed an insignia that seemed eerily familiar.

  Elise felt her heartbeat speed up with excitement as her eyes drifted further down the page.

  “Many shifter families had distinctive symbols,” she read aloud to herself, hunching further over the book. “The older and more established the family and bloodline, the more likely they were to have a crest or insignia that was recognized as their own. Many families or bloodlines used secret, traditional ways to tattoo the marks permanently on their bodies so that nothing could remove it and individual shifters could be identified among themselves. Some, however, chose a less permanent way of honoring their ancestors and families. This was usually achieved by ornate jewelry adorned or crafted in the image of the crest or insignia. Things like necklaces, rings and even cufflinks. Pictured below is an heirloom of the Winter family, a pure and revered line of feline shifters.”

  The necklace was the spitting image of the one draped over the bedside table, and Elise sucked in a startled breath. She got out her camera, first taking a picture of the necklace in the book, then taking high resolution of every page. Page-by-page, she photographed, planning to later type out the book verbatim for her collection.

  She resisted the urge to text Erik, glancing at the digital clock on the bedside table. It wasn't too late by any means but she still didn't want to disturb him with work after hours. He seemed like the type who found it hard to relax and she didn’t want to make it even harder for him. Instead, she carefully put the book on the table in the corner along with the rest of her files from the ongoing case. She poured herself a generous glass of the chilled wine Dot had sent up with dinner, and changed into her pajamas.

  She texted Susan a random bunch of suggestive emojis before logging on to PurrfectMates. The mystery shifter had already messaged her back, and she responded.

  Soon after, Elise was lying in bed, flirting with Mr. Mysterious and wondering what he looked like. She finally mustered the courage to ask him what his shifter form was, an oddly personal question that she felt slightly embarrassed about after she sent it. He didn't hesitate to tell her that he was a panther shifter, though, responding just as quickly as he had to any other message.

  Elise had met quite a few shifters before, had even been lucky enough to see a few shift in the flesh, but they had been less impressive animals. Ravens and a snake. Big cat shifters, on the other hand, she knew were revered even by their own kind. They were known for their grace and power, sleek and dangerous. Elise found herself mesmerized by the thought of him.

  The flirting wa
s gradually growing more and more heated when Elise was struck by the desire to actually hear him. She swallowed the last of her third glass of wine, liquid courage pumping through her veins.

  You should call me, she typed, including her number, and hit send before she could think better of it. She fretted for the few moments it took for him to respond, alternating from checking for a response and looking at her phone. He finally messaged back.

  Give me five minutes.

  She felt giddy, putting her phone on the charger even though the battery was mostly full. She fretted over her hair for a solid two minutes before remembering he wouldn't be able to see her anyway. She paced, checking her phone every fifteen seconds. Finally, it lit up, vibrating along with her cheesy ringtone. She panicked, nearly letting it go to voicemail before she came to her senses and finally picked up.

  “H-hello?” She felt like a giddy teenage girl as she stammered in greeting and could imagine Susan face-palming with secondhand embarrassment for her.

  “Hey,” he responded, and she could practically hear the smirk on his face. His voice was a low, sexy rumble, somehow familiar, but Elise couldn't quite place it. “How's your night going?” he asked.

  “Better now that I'm talking to you.” She was only embellishing a little bit, it really had been dull between finding the pendant in the book and speaking to him. “How about you?” She tried to put on her best sexy voice and was sure she was failing miserably. Her cheeks were burning hot and she was very grateful he couldn’t see her.

  “I'm fantastic now too, thank you.” He sounded vaguely amused. “What did you want to talk about?”

  Elise scrambled for a topic, almost tearing her hair out in panic. What did she want to talk about? Anything, if she was honest. She could listen to him read sports scores from the newspaper and still enjoy it. His voice was vaguely hypnotic.

  “What are you looking for in a woman?” She almost smacked herself in the face, having said the first thing that came to mind before realizing how to tailor the question better. “I mean, what are you looking for in a mate?” She was starting to relax, and she was definitely having fun.

  Finally winding down from the stressful day, she listened to him breathe on the other side of the line as he considered the question.

  “Hmmm,” he practically purred.

  She felt goosebumps rise on her arms and her nipples went instantly hard. She’d never reacted like this just to someone’s voice before.

  “I'm looking...” His voice was lower than before, a growling whisper. “I'm looking for someone loyal. Someone who is passionate and kind and has strong convictions. Someone intelligent. Someone sexy.”

  Elise felt her heart rate increase with each emphasized quality. The way he spoke, the tone of his voice, there was just something about it that resonated deep within her. It was an entirely new sensation.

  “I'm looking for someone who will embrace who I am and who is willing to help satisfy all of my base, animalistic needs,” he went on.

  She felt a jolt deep inside, a flare of something she hadn't felt in a long time.

  “That sounds entirely reasonable,” she said, having finally found her voice. Trembling, she struggled to think of something else to say.

  “I don't think it's too much to ask for,” he said calmly. Elise didn't think so either and said as much.

  She cast around for another idea. “Tell me about your ideal date.” Cliché, yes, but it was all she could think of at that moment.

  “Well,” he sighed and she felt it cut through her like a knife. She stretched out on her back, heart beating hard against her ribs. “It definitely needs to include food. Nothing is sexier than good food, after all, except maybe a beautiful woman.”

  Elise could feel herself melting as his voice washed over her.

  “Then, I would usually have to say a walk. A slow, meandering walk at sunset, or even a moonlit one, as long as the sky is clear and the weather is mild. But this time of year, curling up by a fire with some warm cocoa or a cup of eggnog would be just right.”

  Sighing, she felt some dirty, deep need to touch herself.

  “What would you talk about?” she ventured and bit her lip to stifle a needy sound as she spread her palm over her belly.

  “The things we like,” he said. “Our interests. I'd just let the conversation flow and see where things went.”

  Her hand had ventured even lower, grazing across her already-damp panties.

  “That sounds wonderful,” she said, fighting to hold back a moan and not knowing what else to say. “I would definitely not be opposed to any of that.” She listened to his deep breathing and felt her heart race.

  “I love the beach, too. Lying on the warm sand, watching the waves crash as the sun sets in the background.”

  His voice. She couldn’t stop agonizing over it, something about it just drove her absolutely crazy. It made her feel like she was in some tawdry bodice-ripper romance novel, in heat and mewling for his touch. She slid her hand beneath her panties and her toes curled at the first touch of her fingers to the hot folds between her legs.

  “Or maybe just curl up on the couch and watch a good movie. Just enjoy each other.”

  A long pause snapped Elise out of her reverie and she jerked her hand away as though it had been burned.

  “It sounds amazing. All of it. Perhaps one day I'll get to experience one of those with you.” She sobered up quickly, embarrassed and a little exhilarated by what she'd done.

  “With any luck,” he agreed, and her heart did a little flip.

  “We should meet.” She just threw it out there on the table and hoped for the best.

  “How does tomorrow night sound to you? Zeke's bar?” he replied.

  Her heart did another flip and her stomach bottomed out. “You got it,” she said breathlessly. “Six o'clock sound good?” She figured that should give her enough time on the case, with time to spare to get ready. She caught sight of the closet door, hanging ajar. “I'll be wearing a polka dot dress. Red and white to match your usual Santa outfit,” she added jokingly, although the dress really was red and white.

  “Deal,” he said smoothly, and Elise stifled a yawn. “I better let you get to bed, young lady.” His voice sounded slightly amused.

  With a tinge of sadness, she agreed. It was getting late, and there was a lot to do the next day. “Goodnight, Santa Claws.”

  She bit her lip after the words left her, hoping he wouldn't take offense.

  “Goodnight, woman of my dreams,” he replied playfully.

  She couldn't help but giggle as he chuckled too and ended the call.

  She fell asleep quickly, dreaming of soft fur, deep kisses, and good food. It was the best night’s sleep she’d had in a long time.

  ***

  Dot had coffee brewed and scones waiting in the lobby by the time Elise made her way down in the morning. She'd brought her shoulder bag along packed with everything she thought she might need, from her files, the book, and the necklace to her camera. She texted Erik, hoping he was already awake, and let him know she was ready in the hopes that he would hurry over. She couldn't wait to tell him what she had figured out last night.

  He picked her up, and he headed straight to the drive-through. She insisted on paying that morning, and she even ordered herself a breakfast sandwich along with Erik's three. Sipping their coffees, Elise told Erik everything as he ate two of his breakfast sandwiches.

  “They have long family lines, most of the families can trace their lineage back to medieval Europe. They would wear jewelry and even tattoos of their crests, so other shifters would recognize them and show due respect. Any shifters without a crest were rarely shown respect because it meant their lineage wasn’t noteworthy or they were of mixed heritage, too diluted to be traced back to one of the well-known lines.”

  “That’s true,” Erik agreed. “I know a bit about shifters and that all sounds familiar to me. You said that the crest was a match for the Winters family?”
>
  Elise nodded. “Yes, I’m positive that’s the crest on the necklace. I spoke to the museum that it was supposed to be displayed at and they told me that it had been stolen a few months ago.”

  “So it’s looking more and more like a shifter,” Erik said with a sigh. “Maybe it’s time we go and speak to the victim’s parents.” His eyebrows were furrowed in thought. “I think we’ve reached the limit of what we can figure out without knowing why the boy was at the saw mill. Once that ‘why’ falls into place maybe we’ll finally get a lead that will give us something new.”

  “I hope so,” Elise agreed.

  He turned to her and nodded. “Yeah. I hope so too. That family deserves some closure before Christmas Day.”

  Chapter 6

  It was mid-morning by the time Erik and Elise had gotten out of the station after dropping off Elise’s notes and headed off to their next stop. Erik was already hungry again, and he tried to stealthily rummage through the console compartment where he kept his snacks. He grabbed up a bag of beef jerky and dug in, offering an amused-looking Elise to help herself. She declined, and he wasn't too upset about that. More jerky for him.

  Elise read off the address from a scrap piece of paper, and Erik didn’t recognize the street name immediately. He plugged it into the navigation system of the cruiser and waited for a route to load. When it did he recognized the street that it came off of, so he pulled out onto the main road and headed across town.

  “Sawmill Grove really is quite a small town,” Elise said a moment later.

  There was a note of humor in her voice and Erik shrugged one shoulder. He couldn’t argue with that. “It is,” he agreed. “Makes for good community spirit.”