Shifters, Secrets & Surprises

by Lowe, Anna

  All she had to do was convince him she was mate material.

  Rebekah dialed Liam. “Dad? I’m going to Tacoma. I’ll take over any errands you need for the episode while I’m there.” She’d need plenty of work to keep her distracted while she waited on Daamin to make a decision.

  * * *

  Daamin stared at the text, wondering if a joke was being played on him.

  Will be in town soon. Let’s finally meet up and go over script. I’ll have a few free hours.- R. Conroy

  But there was no way, unless Gwenafar had told her – and the Elder had insisted she was keeping her mouth shut until the mating ceremony, for reasons of her own – that Rebekah knew the Chemical Confectionist and Daamin Jaafir were the same person. He grimaced as the thought slid through his head. He hated the nickname, but it had stuck, especially in social media and once his skeleton staff got ahold of it – they’d gleefully branded him without caring a single whit if he liked it or not. That’s what he got for being a laid-back employer. People thinking they had actual creative freedom.

  He texted her back, giving a time and date and sat back to think about what he was going to do now that the Bear was out of the bag.

  * * *

  Rebekah sat in front of Daamin’s house in a nondescript midsized rental car. It was the only thing she could think of – the club wasn’t open this time of day and she had no idea how to track him down otherwise. But he had to come home sooner or later. Several times she had to slow her breathing, force herself to remain calm. What would he say? Would he be angry? Would he think she’d gotten pregnant on purpose, or lied about her birth control? She’d done her own reading about the efficacy of expired pills over the last several days, as well as the effectiveness of human hormonal birth control when Bear genetics were involved. The latter was inconclusive, but the former… evidently the hormones in pills that were old started to break down after time and stopped working. She hadn’t known that.

  Demonstrably.

  Rebekah closed the lid of her laptop, unable to focus on work and discarded the idea to just walk up to the house and knock on the door. If Daamin didn’t want to see her, it would be less awkward if his family didn’t know she was in town. Closing her eyes for just a moment, she fell asleep.

  * * *

  The sound of the car door opening jerked Rebekah into wakefulness. Asiane stood there, staring down at her with an inscrutable expression.

  “Funny seeing you in this part of town,” the sister said.

  Rebekah shook her head, trying to fully wake up, and rummaged in the passenger seat for a tin of mints. Stalling.

  “I wanted to see Daamin.”

  “We’ve been watching you nap for the last hour. Mother couldn’t take it anymore. Come in and eat, he won’t be home for a while.”

  There was no way to refuse without insulting her potential future sister-in-law, and she was hungry. Twisting to reach into the back seat, she grabbed clean, empty Tupperware containers.

  “I brought back the containers,” she said.

  Asiane’s brow rose. “Miracles. Some people have no manners these days – glad to know chivalry isn’t dead.”

  The female Bear leaned down, long dark hair falling over her shoulder in thick waves, and grabbed Rebekah’s wrist. “Come on.”

  The block was relatively quiet – but as soon as she stepped inside contained chaos reigned. The younger girls ran through the house making loud, screeching noises. One in a Princess dress, the other in a small fireman’s uniform. Muriel yelled, voice coming from the kitchen while one of the twins yelled back. A blend of Arabic and English.

  “Mama caught Faridah switching the spice containers,” Asiane said. “Don’t mind the yelling. It’s normal.”

  Evidently Asiane had been instructed to come fetch her, because Muriel only gave Rebekah a brief glance before waving toward a seat at the table. Rebekah inhaled, the roasting meat and rich spices causing her mouth to water.

  “Oh, man, I think I just got my appetite back,” she said in a half moan.

  Muriel glanced over her shoulder, a longer look. “Are you skinnier than you were last time? That’s no good.”

  “I’ve lost a few pounds.” Rebekah grimaced.

  Muriel sniffed. “You will have dessert, too. I never let my girls leave the table without dessert. A female needs to maintain her strength. Even human females.”

  Some unspoken cue and all the girls rushed to the table. Muriel sat next to her, explaining different dishes and spooning bits of food onto Rebekah’s plate. There was a lull in the conversation as everyone began eating. Muriel leaned closer and said,

  “So. When are you telling Daamin you are pregnant?”

  Chapter Ten

  Muriel took delight in banging on her back and Asiane shoved a glass of water under her nose so she could wash down the rice she was choking on. A long, heated discussion ensued and before Rebekah knew it, the decision was made to escort Rebekah to Daamin’s office after the meal.

  “Take him a plate,” Muriel said, placing a container in her hand. “The smell will remind him of his Mama and make him not so mad that you waited so long to speak. Oh, and that you ran away in the first place.”

  “I didn’t even know you knew they slept together,” Asiane muttered.

  Muriel snorted, and ushered them out of the house. Asiane was driving because now that Muriel considered Rebekah a member of the family – and she was told her status was permanent whether Daamin liked it or not – she was now entitled to security.

  “We will tell you about our family troubles soon,” the matriarch said. “But for now, talk to Daamin.”

  They drove back to the area where the club was, and past the coffee shop. Rebekah stirred. “I kinda want to talk to him on my own with no pressure from his family.”

  Asiane glanced at her and nodded, pulling over. She pointed. “That building there. I’ll go do some paperwork at the club. Give me your cell, I’ll put my number in and you can call me if you need me. Males can be irrational, so who knows if he will be happy or storm off?”

  Rebekah dithered, gathering her nerves, and backtracked towards the cafe where she’d met Daamin before. Ordered herself a strong coffee to give her hands something to do and her eyes something to look at, and started down the block at a brisk pace. It was then that it occurred to her that Daamin’s office was in the same vicinity that the Chemical Confectionist had indicated his office was in. The coincidence was almost too astounding to be a fluke.

  Blood beginning to boil… Gwenafar’s insistence that the arranged mate would be oh so perfect… the groom’s ready change of mind to go ahead with the mating… did he know she was pregnant? And if the erstwhile internet personality and Daamin and her future mate were the same person, why hadn’t he said something?

  Goddamnit.

  “Don’t jump to conclusions, girl,” she muttered to herself. “It’s been nine years since you’ve been arrested for smacking the shit out of someone.”

  The screech of wheels grabbed her attention, causing her to jerk her coffee. She swore as hot liquid sloshed over her hand and whipped her head around to let loose a string of cusses at the non-driver when a dark blue minivan jerked to a halt and a male jumped out.

  And ran right towards her.

  * * *

  “Rebekah is coming,” Asiane said.

  “What?”

  “She was posted up outside the house – waiting for you, I guess. Well, Mama fed her-

  “Of course.”

  “-and ordered me to escort her to you to hash out your unfinished business.”

  Daamin ran his tongue along his teeth. “How’s her mood?”

  A strange silence on the other end of the line. “You’ll see. And Daamin? Be nice. She should be there in five.”

  His sister’s tone of voice put his senses on alert. Asiane knew something she wasn’t telling him. The blend of mirth and worry warned him. Daamin sat in his office for all of two minutes before leaving to go
to the lobby. They were in between filmings right now and there was no way he’d be able to work on edits while waiting for his future mate.

  He reached the entrance and stepped out of the door, deciding to just meet her on her walk, when he heard a female scream.

  * * *

  Rebekah screamed when the male grabbed her, and threw her coffee in his face. Screamed more because it was a solid defensive strategy designed to attract attention, because she knew there was a chance Daamin might hear her even if he wasn’t expecting her and come investigate, and because her voice in the assailant’s ear would just plain hurt.

  She took off toward the converted warehouse at a dead run, using the few seconds of the male’s distraction to get a head start. He’d catch her, of course, if he wasn’t human. But any time she could buy could be the difference between freedom and whatever the kidnapper had planned.

  “Daamin!” she hollered at the top of her breath just as she was tackled from behind. Of course, the incident with the twins went through her mind, but only long enough for the memory to just skim her consciousness – she was too busy trying to keep from getting hauled off.

  Cruel hands jerked her off her feet. She aimed her nails at the vulnerable parts of his face as a deafening roar announced the presence of a shifter.

  Daamin.

  The male holding her cursed viciously, as a night black Bear tore down the street, his weight sending shocks through the pavement. Rebekah was flung away and the male turned, trying to flee, but Daamin was on him.

  “Don’t kill him!” she yelled.

  The Bear stood on its hind legs, human in its claws, and threw the male against a nearby building. The male slumped to the ground, head cracking against the pavement and the van screeched away, tires leaving tracks. The Bear stalked his prey, fangs bared in glistening menace. Rebekah pushed to her feet, clutching her side as a cramp clenched her uterus. “Daamin, forget that, I need to sit.”

  She stumbled to the curb, needing to sit down now. Minutes later a male crouched at her side, wrapping an arm around her back and another under her knees, lifting.

  “Are you hurt?” he demanded.

  “Not really – at least I don’t think so.” The cramp was gone and everything felt… normal.

  “I’ll call an ambulance.” His strides crossed ground in record-breaking time. She felt like she was in a slow-moving car, he moved so fast.

  “No, just bring Asiane.”

  Inside the studio, Daamin found her a couch and set her down, an employee appearing a little later with a blanket and another hot drink. The man introduced himself as Logan. “Daamin told me what happened. You okay?”

  “I’m fine. Is Asiane coming?”

  “He was on the phone with her. He won’t let us call the police.”

  Rebekah nodded, mouth tight. She didn’t think he would. If this was Den business, human police couldn’t become involved anyway.

  Daamin entered the room a moment later, clad only in jeans, not even buttoned, feet bare. He sat on the couch and gathered her into his arms.

  “You’re naked,” she said against his chest.

  He said nothing, arms tightening.

  Rebekah looked up. “Daamin-”

  “Don’t speak. I’m very angry. Just… don’t say anything.”

  She began to glance away and a hand clamped around the back of her neck. He swore in Arabic, then switched to English in the middle of the rant. “Never again, do you understand?”

  Her temper spiked. “Don’t you yell at me. You-”

  He kissed her, probably trying to shut her up, except the kiss was as if he was trying to breathe in her soul and brand her as his at the same time. His body hard underneath her lap, his arm a vice around her body. When he pulled away, none of the anger was gone, but it was tempered. Or temporarily soothed.

  Daamin refused to let her go back to her hotel. Asiane glanced at her a few times and when they entered the house the girls were already in bed. Daamin took her up the stairs to his room.

  Pitiless eyes looked at her. “Strip.”

  She glanced around the room, ignoring him. Thick carpet, a wooden headboard, and an antique dresser with intricate carving. The place was immaculate.

  “Does your mother clean your room?”

  He crossed his arms. “My mother hasn’t cleaned my room since I was nineteen.”

  She wasn’t sure she believed that, but shrugged.

  “Strip.”

  “I’m not hurt, I think I just pulled a muscle when he tackled me.”

  Daamin’s eyes closed, a growl in his chest. “My enemies know your face. You can’t leave me again.”

  She sat down on the edge of the bed. A colorful quilt was spread atop it, in rich colors that spoke of a faraway homeland.

  “Speaking of leaving you again.” She pinned him with a steely look. “Are you the Chemical Confectionist?”

  His brow rose, arms loosening to his sides as he approached, bending so his face was level with hers. “Is your grandmother Gwenafar Conroy?”

  They stared at each other. “This feels a little anticlimactic,” she said finally. “Where is all the screaming, the melodrama? You’re the male she’s been arranging for me, aren’t you?”

  He straightened, wariness flicking through his eyes. “Do you want me to be?”

  “That was like an admission. Not too slick, ace.” She scowled at him, heart beating. “Why didn’t you say anything? You don’t have to mate me if you don’t want to.”

  Daamin laughed. Rebekah’s first instinct was to slap him, but she restrained herself out of respect for Muriel.

  “You are a silly female. I’ve been waiting for you to come to your senses and choose me over duty.” He stared down at her, arrogant, then paused. “But… I also wanted you to choose duty over personal feelings.” He grimaced. “I’m too old to be this confused.”

  Rebekah rose, closed the gap between them and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Sounds like you have some conflicting goals.”

  He sighed, and lowered his head the inch he needed in order to take her lips in a kiss.

  It was sweet at first, and then the banked heat between them erupted. His hands fisted in her hair as he pushed her onto the bed.

  “If you don’t want me to fuck you, leave now,” he said, voice harsh. “I’ve been dreaming of you since you left.”

  She twined her legs around his waist. “Take me.”

  And he did.

  * * *

  Rebekah pressed a hand against her stomach, unsure if the queasiness was nerves or the baby.

  They’d wrapped the special episode less than an hour ago and then every hand in the studio rushed to clear the set and prepare it for a mating ceremony.

  “Not traditional at all,” Gwenafar had grumped. “It should be done properly, in the forest under the sky.”

  “We’re both studio people,” Rebekah said. “This is normal for us.”

  “And cupcakes instead of a cake.” Gwenafar had shook her head and smiled. “Just like you. A little odd, but very sweet. It’s just as well, I suppose. I have my eye on Amberley for one of my males, and this way she’ll get a little exposure, hmm? Let’s invite her to the family party, too.”

  And after the ceremony the Den would retire to Liam’s place for a special Solstice party. The human employees didn’t celebrate their Christmas for a few more days, so the timing worked out perfectly.

  Rebekah retired to a room set aside for her. Muriel, Meredith and all the females of her family already waited, several sets of impatient eyes pinning her when she entered.

  “Finally!” Meredith exclaimed. “Hair and makeup!”

  “Move your ass, girl,” Tamar said.

  They descended on her. Muriel held a swath of deep red velvet in her hands, heavily embroidered in black and gold, tiny beads winking in the light.

  “This was my mating gown,” Daamin’s mother said, holding herself with perfect posture, eyes inscrutable. “Your honored mother ha
s given me permission to ask you to wear it.”

  Rebekah’s breath caught as Muriel and Asiane spread the piece of the gown across a couch. A thigh-length tunic with slits up the side and floor-length skirt in full, flowing pleats. A third piece, a swath of heavy fabric that looked like a giant rectangular scarf completed the ensemble.

  “It’s my favorite color,” Rebekah said. “I would love to wear it.”

  Meredith, at Rebekah’s side, wrapped an arm around her daughter’s waist, and squeezed. “I told Muriel it was perfect. You aren’t a white wedding kind of bride.”

  “Definitely not,” Rebekah said.

  They helped her into the gown. It fit perfectly, so either the design was such to accommodate different figures, or they’d had alterations done. Talia and Faridah ushered her towards a chair and knelt, removing her flats. Her hands and feet were cleansed and then pots of maroon paint emerged from a drawer.

  “We don’t have time for a proper job,” Talia said. “But this will do. Must get you mated before you start showing.”

  And then every pair of Jaafir eyes turned towards her. “When are you telling him?” Asiane asked.

  “I really didn’t think a bunch of girls could keep a secret so long,” Rebekah said without thinking, then winced. Okay, a little sexism there, but still.

  Talia rolled her eyes, but said nothing, intent on her work.

  “I’ll tell him after the ceremony,” Rebekah said. “He told me he didn’t want any cubs with a female he wasn’t mated to.”

  “OMG,” Faridah said. “What a moron.”

  “He didn’t mean it in a mean way. He was just being responsible.”

  Muriel patted her hand. “Of course he was, daughter. He will be very pleased.”

  Tamar did her hair and makeup – Meredith was hopeless with anything more complicated than lip gloss and mascara.

  When she stood and looked at herself in the mirror, she recognized the face and body… but the Rebekah in the mirror gleamed. There was an extra layer of mystique and feminine wile she didn’t possess on her own.