by V. Vaughn
Bad Bear
Bewitched by the Bear - Book 3
V. Vaughn
Copyright © 2018 by V. Vaughn
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover by Wilson Rowe
Editing by Jodi Henley, Red Adept Publishing and Angie Ramey
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Contents
About This Book
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
About the Author
About This Book
Dawn let the allure of a snow-covered world convince her to leave sunny Florida to step in for her mother as the new Veilleux clan witch, but the harsh reality of sub-zero temperatures in Maine is making her search for a way out. Until she meets Lance, a werebear with a smoldering-hot gaze that makes heat rush all the way to her toes. Suddenly, cuddling up by the fire with him makes her see winter in a new light. When the exit plan Dawn set in motion makes her mother come for a visit, black magic grabs the opportunity to bring back an evil villain, and Dawn has to fight for more than life with her soul mate Lance… she needs to save the clan.
Chapter 1
Mom made living here in Maine sound exciting. When her brother died and left her next in line to be the medicine woman for the Veilleux clan, she was supposed to step in. But my dad, born and raised on the Florida coast, has no interest in ever moving, and my guess is that if Mom told him about werebear, it would have been a thunderous “hell no!”
I, however, am a dreamer. I have scrapbooks full of information about foreign countries I’d like to visit, but at twenty-six, I’d never ventured out of Florida. So when Mom complained about the situation to me and basically asked me to do it for her, I agreed. After she explained about werebear and how our Native American ancestors were medicine men and women for the clan, I was even more intrigued. I’ve always identified with my Native American side, and who wouldn’t be curious about a secret world happening all around us with only a select few humans having any idea? To help seal the deal, Mom told me stories of how blue the Maine sky is after a snowstorm. She told me about skating on a pond and warming up with hot chocolate and maple donuts, and what fun a snowball fight could be. She talked about sunny days with ice-covered trees that sparkle like crystals.
Slush from the road splatters beneath the wheels of my Jeep, and more rises up from the car in front of me. I spray more washer fluid to clear it off. My mother forgot to mention this part of winter. Or the fact that Maine starts to get cold in September with temperatures that keep dropping until the red needle hovers around zero in January. Zero! And people still go outside as if it’s normal.
Her stories were fairy tales for sure, because winter sucks. I was tricked into this gig, and I’m not sure how, but I plan to get out of it.
I pull into the parking lot of the town hall. I’ve come to register my car, and I let out a sigh. I waited as long as I could, but now that I have to turn in my Florida license plate for a Maine one, it feels as if I’m losing another piece of who I am.
In Florida, I worked in my family’s crab shack, serving tourists cocktails and fried fish. To keep up with my magic, I did tarot readings and made potions for a local witchcraft shop where very few people who came in believed what we did was real. My powers were wasted, and to be truthful, I was bored because of it. Here, not only do werebear believe in magic, they hold my position as the clan witch in high regard. Almost too high, because some of them are a little afraid of me. I’m constantly challenged with the need to create new spells, and amazingly, I don’t see much of the bear side of the clan. I’m okay with that.
I turn my car off and gaze out the windshield at the ice-covered world shimmering in the sun as if it really is draped in crystals. I should take a picture for my mother and tell her she was right about it being so beautiful so she won’t worry. When we talked a few days ago, a water pipe in my house had frozen because I didn’t know I was supposed to turn off the outside spigot. It wasn’t a good day, and I let loose on her. I pull out my phone and turn on the camera, but it occurs to me I should be outside for the picture.
I pull the zipper of my jacket up higher and shove the door open to brave the elements. The parking lot has been salted, and it crunches under my feet as I walk to the sidewalk. Here, I can take in my surroundings, and I spend a moment gazing up at the sky with my arms open wide to ground myself. I let my guiding spirit fill me. I see the deer that helps ground me like a touchstone before I stop and twirl slowly to figure out what view would make the best picture. When I find two trees that will frame my image perfectly, I step back—— “Whoa!” My boot slips on ice, and I kick out, but I manage to keep my other foot under me for a moment, making me think I’m going to be fine. That is until I lose my balance and begin to windmill my arms in an attempt to stay upright. My feet alternately touch down and slip out from under me a few times before I lose my battle. My phone skitters across the sidewalk as I land on my bottom on the snow-covered lawn.
Five or so feet of snow pack break my fall so that it doesn’t hurt. But it adds to the list of reasons I hate winter, and tears fills my eyes. I lie on my back and squeeze my eyes shut as I try to keep myself from sobbing with frustration.
“Are you okay?” asks a man.
I lift up onto my elbows, mortified that someone saw me fall. “I’m fine.” I gaze into vivid green eyes that many of my clan members have and notice the guy is very attractive. I groan. “Please tell me you didn’t see that.”
“Quick, make your snow angel,” he says.
“A snow angel?” I scowl at the guy as he holds up my phone as if he’s going to take a picture.
“Yeah, I’ll video it.” He winks at me. “That’s what you threw yourself on the ground for. Right?”
I know he’s trying to help me save face, but I’m not amused. “Are you kidding me?” I ask as I sit up with the intention of standing.
He reaches his hand out to help me up, and I let him hoist me back to my feet. His hand radiates heat through my mitten, and I have no doubt he’s a werebear, judging by the temperature alone. He holds on for longer than he should, but I let him because it feels good in a way I can’t describe. And his eyes. They’re like something I would dream about. Did I dream about them? Goodness, they’re mesmerizing, and I stare into them for a moment before he clears his throat and says, “Tell you what. You can video me making one.”
I shake off my trance. “And why would I want to do that?”
“Because I’m hot, and your girlfriends will be jealous. Clamoring to know more. And if you’re lucky, I’ll even give you my number to hand out.”
I laugh as I slap snow from my pants. “Wow. You’re rather impressed with yourself, aren’t you?”
“I made you laugh, didn’t I?” He hands me my phone.
I shake my head, because my desire to cry is gone. “Yeah. I suppose you did.”
“Okay, since you don’t agree with the super-hot-guy thing, let’s try a different approach. Video me making a snow angel, and you can tell all your friends about how you saw me wipe out
, which you wished you could have recorded instead because it definitely got a ten from the Maine judge. And then you can tell them I swore that’s why I threw myself to the ground.”
I chuckle. “You are a trip.” I envision what my fall must have looked like, and heat rises to my cheeks. “I got a ten, huh?”
“Definitely. That thing you did with your arms? Clinched it.” His expression changes to concern, and a lock of dark hair falls over his forehead. “Did it hurt?”
“Just my ego. But thanks for making me feel better about it.”
“Anytime.” He tilts his head toward my Jeep. “You’re the new clan witch everyone’s talking about. You’re a long way from home. How do you like it here?”
I sigh. “I don’t like winter.”
“I do,” he says as he holds out his arm for me to take. I grab on thankfully to avoid falling again, and we begin to walk toward the town hall as he says, “It’s my favorite season.”
“Okay. Now I know something is seriously wrong with you.”
“There might be something wrong with me.” He flashes me a toothy smile that sends a shiver down my spine, and it’s not because he’s a bear. “Or you’re doing it wrong.” The guy releases my arm and pulls the door open to hold it for me.
I say, “I think I’ve got it covered. Frozen pipe. Check. Skidded through an intersection and almost caused a car accident. Check.” I give him a smirk and then say, “Had a spectacular fall on ice in front of an audience. Check. What am I missing?”
The guy is still holding the door open but not stepping inside after me. He lets go and says, “The fun part,” before the door shuts, separating us.
I blink in confusion, and it occurs to me I didn’t get his name. I’m tempted to go outside and call after him to find out, but I don’t. I have a feeling I’ll see that Veilleux werebear again.
Chapter 2
“I’m sorry. Could you repeat that?” I ask the clerk. I’m too distracted by the memory of my handsome stranger’s smile to concentrate on what the woman is saying.
“I asked if you wanted me to try find you an interesting plate number.”
“Oh. No,” I say as I think about the fact I’m not planning to stay any longer than I have to. “I don’t care what I get.”
I tear off my check and hand it to the woman.
“Welcome to Maine,” she says.
“Thanks.” I grab the plates and make my way toward the door. As I push on it, I recall how strong my stranger’s grip was when he helped me up and how firm his arm felt when I hung on to it. Once I get outside, I gasp a little when I see the guy never left.
He grins at me as he holds out his arm again and says, “I’ve been thinking.”
I smile and realize I’m probably a little too happy he waited for me. I take his arm. “Have you now?”
“I think you need someone to show you how great winter can be.”
“Let me guess. You’re just the guy for the job?”
“As a matter of fact, I am,” he says. “The name’s Lance, by the way.”
“What makes you so interested in helping me?”
“I—The Veilleux really need you to stick around. No clan should ever be without a medicine man or woman.”
The Veilleux clan has been incredibly kind to me since I arrived. My uncle, the previous medicine man, left on bad terms for using black magic that led to the deaths of innocent people, and it left the Veilleux without a witch or warlock for long enough even the most stoic clan members were eager to have another. So while I’m Tokala’s niece, I was still welcomed with open arms.
“Lance,” I say, and I notice the way his name rolls easily off my tongue. “I’m Dawn.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dawn.”
We’re near where I fell, and I glance over at the spot.
“It’s not too late to make snow angels,” he says. “Have you ever done it?”
Since I would never voluntarily lie down in cold snow, I say, “No.”
Lance pulls away from me. “It’s easy. C’mon. I’ll show you.”
I watch as he sets himself up with outstretched arms as if he’s inviting the spirits in to ground himself. But he falls backward, keeping his legs straight. He breaks through the thin top layer of ice left over from the storm when he hits the ground, and he swipes his arms up and down as he spreads and closes his legs. “Now comes the hard part,” he says. “It takes a little practice to get up without ruining it.”
I tuck my Jeep’s plates under my arm and bend over as I hold out my hands. “Let me help.”
“Thanks,” says Lance as he grabs on and gets up. He turns to look at his handiwork. “Not bad. The icy layer made it kind of messy, though. It’s better after a fresh snowfall.” He looks at me. “You try.”
I shake my head as I realize he was trying to make the impression of a long-skirted dress and bell sleeves. “I’m good.”
“Dawn.” Lance frowns. “You’re making my job harder than it has to be.”
“I don’t recall hiring you,” I say as I notice how he manages to make a scowl look sexy. But I know about the danger that lurks underneath his human exterior, and it makes my heart beat a little faster with fear.
When I arrived in Maine to live with a clan of werebear, I didn’t know what to expect. Since I’d only learned of their existence a few weeks before, I was still wrapping my brain around what exactly a shifter would be like. I quickly discovered that there’s a reason they can keep the secret. When werebear are in human form, you’d never know they were anything more. So the average person would never guess Lance is also a fierce bear. It’s a dangerous side of him and all the other clan members that makes me nervous.
He raises an eyebrow, and I’m not sure if it’s fear of making him angry or because I’m a sucker for a cute guy, but I give in and sigh.
“Fine.” I hand him the plates for my car and walk over to the edge of the pavement and hold out my arms. “Like this?”
“You’ve got it. Now fall back while holding your body stiff.”
I lean back and let out a squeal as I fall. When I hit the ground, I move my arms and legs.
“Very nice,” says Lance as he holds out a hand to help me up.
Once I get to my feet, I turn to look at my angel. It’s as messy as Lance’s, but you can get the general idea. “Hmmm. It might need some work.”
“Yeah. This was the practice round. You executed a perfect fall, though, so when we have the right snow, you’ll create a masterpiece.”
“Falling is clearly one of my strengths.”
I smile at him as we walk toward my jeep, and I gaze at the landscape sparkling in the sun. I let out a sigh of pleasure at the beauty and realize I’m in a good mood now. When I pulled in here, I was in a funk, and it could have turned nasty when I fell if not for Lance. I say, “Thank you for making this day better. I needed it.”
“You’ve brightened mine too, Dawn.” He begins to walk backward. “Drive safe.”
“Thanks, Lance. You too.” I wave at him before he turns around to go.
My smile stays intact as I drive off. While I’ve become close friends with the neighboring clan witches, I haven’t gotten very close to any werebear. And Lance makes me want to remedy that.
I flip on the radio and sing to a pop tune, and I think about my appointments for the afternoon. My wild imagination never predicted the mellow nature of what my position in the clan requires. My calendar is usually full of the ordinary aches and pains of older folks, and a few people who want me for minor spells to improve their life. But as Bella, the Robichaux clan witch, told me when she helped me settle into my position here, the majority of what I do is similar to the work of a therapist. I listen to problems, offer insight, and provide hope for a positive outcome with the use of my magical abilities.
I have had some excitement, though. A few months ago, I got to help Bella save her warrior soul mate. Although that got me in a bit of hot water since I didn’t quite understand the cla
n rules around bonding, but fortunately, my blunder was chalked up to being new to the whole world of werebear. And I did get to be in on the discovery that magical humans and werebear have children that get both traits and shift as toddlers instead of after puberty. Talk about cute.
Amazingly, though, except for seeing Tally’s cubs and glimpses I get of bear running through my field, I could be working for a small community of humans. The werebear in my clan are either too polite to show me their bear side or just don’t spend a lot of time in that form.
A song about new love comes on, and I turn it up and sing at the top of my lungs. My thoughts turn to Lance. And his eyes. I could look into his gaze forever as I held onto his strong arms. I think about how funny he is too. Lance really did make what could have been a bad day a much better one. So much so that I wonder how I can see him again. I chuckle to myself as I realize I’ve got a huge crush on him. Maybe Maine isn’t so bad after all. Because I think falling is something I do well.
Chapter 3
I wipe sweat from my forehead as I take a break from shoveling my driveway. A few days after the ice storm, we got a nor’easter. That’s a New England term trying to make blizzards sound quaint. They aren’t. Wind blew snow sideways and howled through the night for two days. It didn’t seem to stop many of my clan members, though. My clients came into my kitchen during the storm covered in the stuff as if it’s a badge of honor. Since I inherited Tokala’s home, which Tori, the clan alpha, had updated before I got here, I have the perfect witch’s hearth, and clothing steams before my eyes as a fire attempts to dry it out before the werebear step outside again to leave.
