by Unknown
“Where to, Mr. J?” Mario asked when he got back behind the wheel.
“The Royal Plaza. How’re the roads?”
“Okay for now, but the conditions are deteriorating. Good thing you called when you did. Another half hour and my dispatcher wouldn’t have let me back on the road.”
“Guess it’s my lucky day then,” the stranger said. He winked at Carrie and she smiled, letting her tired body sink into the plush leather seat. It felt good to finally relax someplace warm and comfortable.
She wiggled her exposed toes for the hundredth time that day. Note to self: Never travel to New York in the winter without warm, waterproof shoes.
“Since we’ll be spending the night together, I guess I should introduce myself.” She held out her hand. “I’m Carrie Carlson.”
When the stranger took her small hand in his larger one, Carrie felt a jolt of electric heat travel down her arm and into her belly. His nails were expertly manicured, but his palm was rough and callused. The dichotomy struck her as odd.
“Nice to meet you, Carrie Carlson. Trevor Jantz, at your service.”
In a flash, the heat in Carrie’s belly turned to ice. “Did you say Jantz? As in Jantz Oil?” She yanked her hand back.
“One and the same,” Trevor said.
“Then it’s all your fault!”
~~~
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Bear The Heat
Shifter BBW (Firefighter) Romance
By Catherine Vale
Copyright © 2014, Catherine Vale
Published by Wild Hearts Press
Website: http://www.CatherineVale.com
Chapter One
“Please, please, please,” the woman sobbed, pressing her soot-streaked face into her hands. “You have to save him.”
Caleb tugged on a hank of his thick dark hair, letting out an aggravated breath. “Ma’am, I’m very sorry about Scruffy, but I can’t risk sending my men back in there to find him.” A loud crash from the burning building behind him punctuated his words. The woman flinched, and her legs hanging down from her perch on the back of the ambulance began to swing faster.
“No!” The little girl sitting next to her mother jumped down, her eyes wide with terror and fury. “You can’t leave Scruffy in there to die; I won’t let him!” She dashed forward, fully intending to go back into the burning house to rescue her dog.
Caleb stepped forward to intercept her, but another firefighter got to her first. “Easy there,” Rick said, scooping her up into his arms. “I can’t let you do that, honey. Your mother needs you here with her.”
“But we’ve only had him a month!” the little girl howled, tears streaming down her reddened cheeks. "He was being treated so badly by these mean people, and we were making him better! AND NOW HE’S GOING TO DIE!” Her shrill tone rose to an ear-splitting shriek, and Caleb winced as the sound grated on his sensitive hearing. The girl pounded her legs and fists against Rick, but he didn’t budge.
A sound caught Caleb’s attention, and he stiffened, homing in on the sound. He heard it again—beneath the loud roar of the flames, the torrential spray of the fire hoses, and the shouts and cries of the firefighters and civilians, was a tiny whimper. Scruffy.
His eyes met Rick’s, and he knew from the look in his friend’s eyes that Rick had heard the same thing. “I’m going in.”
Rick nodded, though the tightness around his mouth told Caleb his friend wasn’t happy about the idea. “I’d take James with you, boss. He’s got the best sense of smell out of all of us.”
The woman looked up. If she was puzzled by Rick’s statement, it didn’t show; likely she was in too much shock for it to even register. “He likes to hide underneath the basket in the laundry room,” she said wearily. “The darkness in there makes him feel safe.”
Caleb nodded. “We’ll get him out, ma’am.”
Turning, he motioned James, who was by the fire truck, over to him. The short, stocky blond hurried over, concern in his blue eyes. “This house is definitely a lost cause, Cay.”
“I know. We’ve gotta go back in, though. There’s a dog inside.”
James rolled his eyes. “You know if we were any other fire station that we’d refuse, right?”
Caleb clapped him on the shoulder. “You’re right… but we’re not. We’re the Silver Grove Fire Station, and we get the job done.”
With those encouraging words, the two men strapped on their helmets and checked their gear, then ran into the building. James was right – a normal fire station would never agree to go back into a fire this bad just to rescue a dog. But as were-bears, they had heightened senses and faster healing than the average human. Plus, they had more empathy for animals, being half-animal themselves; it was just as big of a loss to them if they let an animal die in a fire as it was to leave a human to burn.
“He’s back this way,” James told Caleb, speaking over the radio. They ducked through a burning door frame that was seconds away from crumbling. There was a loud creaking noise, and Caleb grabbed James and dragged him aside just as a beam came crashing down. They were relying almost entirely on their hearing; the smoke was so thick and black they could hardly see anything.
The whimpering noises got louder the further back into the house they went, and soon enough they were in the laundry room, scooping up a terrified little mutt from his hiding spot beneath the laundry basket. “Shhh,” Caleb murmured, stroking the dog’s quivering hide with his gloved hand. “It’s going to be alright now.”
He tucked the dog into the safety of his jacket, then zipped up and headed out through the back of the house. More burning debris littered the yard, and there was a swing set that was covered with ash carried over from the house by the wind.
“Go get some guys back here with a hose,” Caleb ordered. “If this yard catches fire, it’ll spread to the neighbors and the entire block will be in a panic.”
“Yessir.” James ran ahead to carry out the order, already shouting into the radio.
As Caleb rounded the front of the house, he saw that the woman was now holding the little girl, rocking her slowly as she watched her house burn down. She looked up as Caleb approached, her eyes bleak.
“It’s alright.” Caleb opened up his jacket and pulled out a now-wriggling Scruffy. “Your dog is safe.”
“Oh Scruffy!” The little girl jumped off her mother’s lap and came running up to snatch the dog from Caleb. “I’m so glad you’re safe!” She squeezed the little dog tight, which lapped at her dirty face eagerly, tail wagging.
“Thank you so much.” The mother rose, tears in her eyes. “It means so much to us.” She reached out to give Caleb a hug, and he pulled the mother into his arms, letting her weep on his shoulder.
“It’s not a problem, ma’am.” There was often nothing he could do about the house in situations like these, but he could provide some comfort to the grieving, and he was happy to do it whenever possible.
She pulled back, smiling a little for the first time. “When I get access to an oven again, I’ll make sure to send some fresh-baked cookies over to the fire station for you boys.”
Caleb grinned. “We’d definitely appreciate that, ma’am.”
* * *
Sonya stood at the corner, her eyes wide as she stared at the house going up in flames across the street. The street was completely clogged, the police cars, ambulances, and fire truck just as much as a draw for passersby to stop and gawk as the fire itself.
She didn’t know the family personally, but she walked by this house every day on her way home from work, just as she was doing today. It was a cute little cottage, with a gabled roof and colorful wooden shutters that were always left open, she imagined, to let natural light into the rooms. The front garden was always in bloom during the spring and summer months, and sometimes she saw the woman w
ho lived there out in the front with her daughter, planting new flowers or pulling up weeds. She saw them now, sitting forlornly at the back of an ambulance as they watched their charming little home burn to the ground.
Sonya’s heart went out to them, and a part of her wanted to stop and see what she could do to help. But the lead weight on her heart held her back; she just didn’t have the strength to involve herself in other people’s problems, not when her own world was crumbling around her.
Continuing on with her walk home, she pulled the letter out of her pocket and read it again.
My dearest Sonya,
I hope you are as excited about our upcoming union as I am. The reports from my weres tell me that you have been a good little girl these past few months, which has pleased me greatly. So greatly, in fact, that I’ve decided to move the ceremony up to next week.
Sonya’s knuckles whitened, and the paper tore a little beneath her fingers. She forced herself to loosen her grip then read on.
I’ve already notified your parents to come up this Saturday so they will be here in time to witness the ceremony. I’ll be sending a dressmaker to your house within the next few days to take your measurements; I know you don’t have anything suitable to wear, so please work with the dressmaker to create something appropriate for the occasion.
As I’ve mentioned before, you are free to invite any friends and family you wish to attend, so long as they are not an enemy of the Blackwater clan or of our mating. I’ll have one of my weres drop off the invitations tomorrow.
Please don’t disappoint me. I very much look forward to making you mine.
Damien
Sonya crumpled up the letter in her fist, fighting the impulse to chuck it away from her or rip it to shreds. Two of his were-bears, big brutes that smelled foully of stale sweat, drugs, and other unpleasant odors had shown up earlier this afternoon at the convenience store she worked at to deliver the letter. They’d frightened the customers in the store, sending them scurrying out in a panic, and had also knocked over several displays. The one who’d handed her the letter had given her a lecherous grin to go along with it, and Sonya had had to refrain from jumping across the counter and punching his lights out.
Her boss had been in the store at the time and had been infuriated by the intrusion. He’d questioned Sonya thoroughly as he’d helped her clean up the mess, trying to figure out where the men had come from. She’d evaded his answers, and her boss was now convinced that she was mixed up with the mafia or other gang-related business. He was probably drawing up her pink slip to give to her in the morning.
Sonya sighed. Oh well. It was better he think that anyway; the truth was much worse, and he wouldn’t be able to handle it. Plus, it wasn’t like Damien would allow her to keep her job, not after they were mated. No, she would be expected to perform her duties as his mate, which for a control-freak like him would be to sit around looking pretty and be ready to lie on her back or get on her knees for him at a moment’s notice.
Sonya shoved the paper back into her pocket as she stomped across the front porch of her ratty little bungalow. She wondered if she’d be able to stop herself from ripping Damien’s face off the first time he tried to shove his cock inside her. Her hatred for him was so palpable that sometimes she wondered why on earth he would want her as a mate.
But then, Damien wasn’t a normal were-bear who wanted a lover and a partner to raise a family with. He was a sadistic bastard, and he wanted nothing more than a pretty slave he could beget heirs on. As such, he took great pleasure in her hatred of him. He loved subjugating females around him, especially the unwilling, and he would have no trouble beating her into submission if she defied him. In fact, she was pretty sure he was counting on her doing it at least a few times, just so he could have the pleasure of breaking her spirit.
As much as she wanted to think that she would maim or kill him, the truth was that if he said jump, she would ask how high. The consequence of not doing so went far beyond her own personal suffering, and she couldn’t allow her loved ones to be hurt on her behalf.
With a sigh, she let herself into the house, then kicked off her shoes by the entrance and made her way into the kitchen. The appliances were second-hand and ancient, just like everything else in the house. It was all she could afford on the meager salary she took home from the convenience store, but it was hers, and she was proud of that.
There had been a time when she could have afforded to live in better lodgings and have nicer furnishings, but that was before her parents and Damien had pulled her allowance. Damien to make her suffer for her crimes, and her parents because they’d been forced to.
Sonya hung up her keys on the hook over the sink, then started gathering ingredients from the fridge and pantry. Baking always helped calm her nerves; when she was in a true frenzy, the entire neighborhood was well supplied with baked goods for over a week. Pretty soon she had the batter ready for a mountain of chocolate chip cookies and was scooping the first dozen onto a couple of baking sheets.
“I need a vacation,” she muttered, sticking the cookies into the oven and setting the timer. “Somewhere warm and far away, like the tropics.” At one point she’d had dreams of running away to some romantic and far-off country, but those dreams, like many others, had been squashed by Damien.
He was really all that she had left. Which, of course, was the whole point.
Oh well. If she couldn’t go on vacation, she could at least have a substitute. She climbed the stairs to her bedroom and went into the connected bathroom to start the water for a bath, making sure to add a liberal amount of bubbles. The claw-footed tub in her bathroom was one of the very few luxuries she had, and she used it whenever possible.
She went back out in the bedroom to undress, emptying her pockets to make sure there was nothing in them before she threw her clothes in the hamper. With a grimace, she pulled out the hated note again and tossed it onto the hastily constructed desk of cinderblocks and plywood beneath the double-paned window. Once she’d had a real writing desk and had actual time in the day to work on her poetry. These days, she was too exhausted and depressed to write.
A few minutes later, she was sinking into luxurious, bubbly warmth that made her skin tingle and her muscles sigh. She leaned her head back against the edge of the tub and looked up at the water-stained ceiling, trying to imagine that the stains were actually puffy clouds and that she was lounging on a beach somewhere with a cold drink in her hand. The water in the tub lapped up against her ears, reminding her of an ocean tide, and soon the fantasy and the warm water lulled her to sleep.
Chapter Two
“That was some great teamwork back there, wasn’t it?” Kevin said to no one in particular. They were all back in the locker room at the fire house, stripping down and washing off soot and grime. “And great work with you and James getting that little doggy out before the house collapsed.”
Caleb nodded. “We did the best we could.” He pulled off his shirt and stuck it in his duffel bag, then sat down on the bench to remove his socks and shoes. “We all did. I’m proud of each and every were standing here today.” There was a small cheer at his words, and he smiled a little.
“We didn’t save the house though.” It was David, one of the rookies, who spoke. His back was facing them, and Caleb saw that his shoulders were slumped, his head bowed. “That poor family has lost everything.”
Rick came over and rested a meaty hand on the cub’s shoulder. David was barely out of adulthood as a were-bear and wasn’t hardened like the rest of them were. “Not everything, son. They still have each other, and you can bet they’re thankful for that.”
Rick’s words seemed to be helping a little, and so Caleb finished stripping down and stepped into the shower, leaving them alone. He leaned forward and pressed his hands to the tile, letting the hot spray pound his back. The truth was that any day they didn’t lose a life was a good day.
“Firefighting is more about preserving lives than anything else, Ca
y.” His brother Dean’s voice echoed in his head. “We do our best to save the buildings, but the walls are never going to be as important as the lives of the people in them.”
Homesickness seized him fiercely, and he struggled to hold back his grief. He missed the good old days back at the Blackwater Fire Station, when he’d been a member of a thriving clan and had fought fire side by side with his comrades. He’d left most of his family and friends when he’d started the Silver Grove Fire Station and hadn’t spoken to any of them in over two years now.
And all because of that rat bastard, Damien.
Caleb gritted his teeth at the thought of the new Blackwater clan leader. Damien had shown up out of the blue and challenged Angus, the old clan leader. As clan leader, Angus had no choice but to accept or forfeit his title, but as the younger, stronger, faster bear, Damien put Angus down quickly and took leadership of the clan. His first act as the new alpha was to completely decimate the clan hierarchy; he’d brought other were-bears in to act as his enforcers and stripped all the other clan members of their ranks, forcing them to earn them again.
Those that Damien couldn’t force to bend to his will had been killed or banished, and that included every single firefighter of the Silver Grove Fire Station. When Caleb had been kicked to the curb, he’d wandered around for about a year before deciding to start his own fire station in Silver Grove, which was near enough to Blackwater to piss Damien off, but still far away enough not to encroach upon his territory.
Finished with his shower, Caleb toweled off and then put on the clean set of clothes from his gym bag. Several of the firefighters in the locker room were chatting amicably, making plans to go to the Silver Grove Pub since they were getting off shift. Caleb wished he were going with them, but he wasn’t getting off shift for at least another four hours.
“Catch you later, boys.” He clapped several of them on the shoulder on the way out. “I’m going to be catching up on some paperwork.”
