Paranormal's Love 12 - Tempting the Bear

by Charlie Richards

  Wren nodded. “Okay, okay,” he muttered. “Fine. She’s safe. That’s good.” He nodded again. “I think I need to go. I shouldn’t have come here.”

  Perseus watched Wren turn away and head toward the door. After bending his knees, he leaped over the bed and landed on the other side a step behind his mate. Perseus grabbed his lover from behind, wrapping him tightly in his arms.

  When Wren shouted and began to struggle, Perseus trilled deeply, causing his chest to vibrate in a soothing cadence. “Easy, Wren,” Perseus murmured into his ear. “You’re safe here. I just have a few more things to say, then I’ll show you to the exit of the estate.”

  After a few more seconds of struggling, Wren’s movements ceased. A hard shudder worked through his body. Finally, he relaxed in Perseus’ grip.

  “What’s that?” Wren whispered roughly.

  Perseus tucked his face close to Wren’s neck, nuzzling gently. “That’s called trilling,” he murmured. “It helps calm someone when they are upset. I stand by my word,” he continued. “There is just one more thing, then I will let you go.”

  Wren cleared his throat. “Okay.”

  “In order to leave, I need your word that you will not tell anyone of what you’ve learned here today,” Perseus stated. “Our safety depends on secrecy. In time, you’ll come to understand that, but for now, your word.”

  Scoffing, Wren grumbled, “Who the hell would I tell?”

  “Exactly,” Perseus pressed “Who would you tell? Who would believe you?” Lowering his voice, he stated, “Hunters, Wren. Hunters would believe you. They are out there and they would be more than happy to use you to get to me. To my fellow clutch-mates.” Softening his tone, he added, “While you don’t understand it, yet, you are my mate. That means you’re everything to me.”

  “You don’t even know me.”

  Perseus smiled. He’s overheard conversations from other mated couples that that particular claim always came up at least once. “We will change that,” he vowed. Easing his grip, Perseus asked again, “Will you promise not to say a word of this to anyone save your goddaughter? If you have questions before I visit you tomorrow, she can answer them for you.”

  “You’re going to visit me?”

  “Yes,” Perseus persisted. “I am going to visit you. Now promise.”

  “I promise,” Wren responded.

  While Wren’s tone sounded as if he’d say anything to get away from his current situation, Perseus could scent the truth beneath his simple statement. Wren wouldn’t tell anyone. In fact, if Perseus didn’t miss his guess, his disbelieving mate was going to go home and pretend none of this had ever happened.

  Perseus hoped he’d made a big enough impression, or a pleasant enough memory, anyway, that Wren wouldn’t be able to dismiss him so easily.

  “Good. I will show you to the door,” Perseus said, easing his grip.

  An hour later, after discreetly following Wren home and seeing that his mate had disappeared safely inside, Perseus returned to the estate. He settled into the hospital wing and went over every memory of his time with Wren. He’d figure out a way to get through to the human if it took a hundred years to do it. Perseus had the time and nothing better to do.

  Chapter Five

  Wren stared at the grill without really seeing it. His head pounded and his vision felt muzzy. Not because he had drank himself into a stupor the evening before, although he’d been sorely tempted. No, instead he’d lain in bed for hours obsessing over the fact that his entire world had been rocked.

  As had his body.

  Standing there at the stove, Wren clenched his channel. While Perseus’ tail hadn’t been large, it had been so long since he’d had anything up his ass that he could still feel the stretch. The mild burn kept his dick in a state of semi-arousal...from just his damn tail!

  “A fucking tail,” Wren muttered. “And wings and claws.”

  “What are you talking about, Wren? What has wings and a tail?”

  Wren spun at the unexpected voice. Upon seeing Reginald standing just a few feet behind him, he frowned. With Parker on his break, Wren was alone in the kitchen. Not for the first time, he wondered how the man always seemed to catch him in the kitchen alone.

  Wren really didn’t want to deal with Reginald today.

  “Oh, hello, Reggie,” Wren greeted coolly. “Did we have an appointment today?”

  Reginald chuckled. “As if I need an appointment to visit my favorite restaurant owner.” Reginald shoved his hands into his pockets, a wide smile dominating his narrow face. “I just came to say hi. See how you’re doing.”

  While some might find the look charming, with Reginald’s lean features, Wren thought the look was a little creepy. He also didn’t like the way the man swept his gaze over Wren’s body. Reginald was married, and he and his wife had a nine year old daughter. Obviously, he didn’t seem to think that should stop him from looking.

  Keeping his face impassive, Wren replied, “I’m fine. Thank you.” He waved his spatula toward the stove. “As you can see, I’m busy as always, especially with Parker on break.”

  “Yes, I’m glad I caught you alone,” Reginald stated. “I’d like to meet up for dinner.” His gaze swept slowly over Wren again, his lips twisting in a leer. “I have something to discuss with you.” He smirked. “Of a personal nature.”

  Wren’s eyes narrowed. No prizes for guessing what this lecherous man wanted to discuss. Wren didn’t do men in relationships and he sure as hell didn’t do closeted men, married or not.

  “I’m sorry, Reggie,” Wren responded. “I’m not interested in mixing business with pleasure.” Seeing the smile fade from Reginald’s face, he continued, “And don’t try to deny that’s what you were going to offer. You’re married. End of story.”

  Reginald’s expression turned bland and he shrugged. “That doesn’t mean anything. It’s not like I’m asking for a commitment or anything.” He curved his mouth into a salacious look and raked his gaze over Wren again. “I just want to fuck that big body of yours.”

  Wren sneered, his blood running cold in his veins. “Get out of my kitchen, Reggie,” he snarled. “Before I toss you out of my restaurant. Have the city send another health inspector next time.”

  Reginald’s brown eyes narrowed, his expression turning glacial. “I’m sure you don’t mean that, Wren,” he countered. Curling his lip into a nasty grin, Reginald continued, “You don’t want to fuck with me. I can make it really difficult to pass your health inspection.” Lifting his chin, Reginald’s expression turned haughty. “You see, I am the health department.”

  Clenching his jaw—and the fist not holding the spatula—Wren fought his urge to hit the bastard. “How dare you threaten me?” He managed to get the words out through gritted teeth. “You might want to rethink that idea, Reggie.”

  Pulling his hands from his pockets, Reginald glanced around the kitchen as he waved at the pantry where Wren kept the dry goods. “I’m sure you were just talking about a bat getting into your pantry.” He returned his focus to Wren as he continued, “Wings and claws and all that. It probably made quite a mess in there.”

  Wren watched as Reginald turned and headed toward the doorway that led to the main part of the restaurant. The man’s toned body almost glided across the floor. The first time Wren had met Reginald, he’d actually admired the way he moved. Now, he recognized it for what it was...conceit.

  Reginald paused, his hand on the door. “Think about it, Wren.” He narrowed his eyes and smirked again. “You really don’t want to make an enemy of me.”

  After those parting words, Reginald let himself out of the kitchen.

  The door was caught by a hand and Parker appeared in the doorway. He glanced over his shoulder at Reginald’s retreating form, then walked into the kitchen. Releasing the swinging door, Parker scowled.

  “What was that rat doing here again?” Parker asked, scowling, as he headed to the sink to wash up.

  “Rat is right,” Wren snarle
d.

  Parker’s lips pursed. “Is everything all right?” he asked, donning his apron and gloves. “Did we miss some mundane detail again?”

  Wren knew Parker was referring to when Reginald had written them up for having a spilled bag of brown sugar in the pantry. Somehow, the sugar had shifted in the bag and caused it to fall over. The seal had broken and spilled the brown clumps over the shelf and onto the floor. As luck would have it, Reginald had made one of his surprise visits that day.

  Knowing how petty Reginald could be, Wren growled under his breath. He shook his head as he turned back to his grill. Unfortunately, the burgers were burned and he had to start again.

  As Wren focused on starting three new patties, he told Parker, “Nothing for you to worry about. Just his normal condescending attitude.” He had no intention of sharing that he’d been propositioned...hell, blackmailed...by the man.

  “Okay,” Parker drew the word out, giving away that he didn’t really believe him. Fortunately, the young man got to work.

  Wren tossed his keys into the carnival glass bowl resting on the side table beside the front door. He placed his wallet next to it. Finally, he pulled off his leather jacket and hung it on one of the hooks positioned nearby.

  Peering around his small home, Wren sighed deeply. Fatigue ate at his bones. He wanted to sleep so badly, but he also knew his employees wanted to get paid. Payroll came first.

  Sighing, Wren headed down the short hallway to the kitchen. He opened his refrigerator and pulled out a large tub containing leftover spaghetti noodles. After setting it on the counter, he turned and chose a smaller container with the sauce and meatballs. Finally, he grabbed a large glass bowl and prepared himself a serving.

  After shoving it in the microwave and hitting two, Wren put the remaining leftovers away. He grabbed a bottle of Snapple iced tea, twisted off the cap, and read camels milk does not curdle. Snorting, he tossed the cap into his garbage, then glanced toward his fridge.

  “Maybe I should switch,” Wren commented before taking a deep swallow of the raspberry flavored tea. He always seemed to be tossing out several cups of the beverage.

  Once the microwave dinged, Wren grabbed a fork from a drawer and pulled out his food. He balanced everything carefully and headed toward his home office.

  A small business owner’s work is never done, Wren mentally reminded himself. Then, he got to work managing his business’s accounts.

  Sometime later, the sound of the doorbell caught Wren’s attention, pulling his focus away from the invoices he was processing. He sighed harshly as he rubbed his eyes. He hated computers. He hated their florescent glow, hated the too-small keys, and he really hated how he always ended up with a headache after working on one for a couple of hours. Unfortunately, they were a necessary evil.

  When the doorbell sounded again, Wren pushed his office chair away from the desk and rose to his feet. He took a few seconds to stretch, twisting first to the left, then to the right. His back popped and he grunted contentedly.

  Better.

  Finally, Wren closed the laptop and headed out of his office to the front door. His little cabin worked well enough for him. It was a two bedroom, one bathroom, cottage-style home. Some previous owner had built a detached one car garage about ten feet away from it. Wren used it to house his motorcycle and his weight bench. There was just enough room for Wren to park his old Dodge pick-up between the two buildings. He kept it under a tarp and the proximity of the eaves kept it surprisingly free of snow during the winter.

  “Wren! Open the damn door!”

  Upon hearing Penelope’s yelled words through the door, Wren’s brows shot up and he grimaced. He hadn’t spoken more than a few words to his goddaughter that day at work...and for good reason. He still hadn’t wrapped his mind around everything he’d heard and seen the previous day.

  Wren made his way to the door. He heard Penelope begin another round of pounding, only to have the sound stop abruptly. He paused and cocked his head, listening through the door.

  “Pen, stop,” Golren’s deep voice urged. “Maybe he’s not home.”

  “He’s home,” she insisted.

  Golren sighed. “Baby, maybe he’s not ready to talk about it, yet.”

  “Wren has never run from anything in his life,” Penelope replied, sounding a mix of anger, irritation, and confusion. “He hardly said more than hello and good-bye to me today. He couldn’t even look me in the eye.”

  “Accepting this kind of thing can’t be forced,” Golren responded. “You know that.”

  Penelope blew a raspberry before replying, “Whatever. I think Leroy did a damn fine job forcing the issue with me about accepting shifters after he bonded with Caladon. Hell, he got me drunk and his lover shifted in front of me.” She huffed before continuing, “Then, because I was sober again and completely freaked out by seeing a twenty foot boa constrictor, he decided it was a grand time to explain shifters and why the older man I couldn’t keep my eyes off of would want me, too.”

  Golren growled under his breath. “Pen,” he rumbled. “You are a stunning, vibrant, sexy woman and any man should be honored to have you stand at his side.” Penelope squeaked, the sound cut off when Golren continued, “Most of the men of this town are fools for not seeing that, but that is neither here nor there. You are mine now, Penelope Grath, and you will be by my side for the rest of our days.”

  “Yeah,” Penelope responded breathily.

  A second later, Wren heard the distinctive sound of kissing. He grimaced, running his fingers through his hair in discomfort. While he knew his goddaughter was an adult, hearing and seeing certain things...well, Wren just wasn’t comfortable with it.

  Wren opened the door a few inches. He leaned against the door frame and looked to the left, out toward the street. While he could see the silhouette of his goddaughter and her...boyfriend, he couldn’t see them directly.

  After a few seconds of them not acknowledging his presence, Wren cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. Did you come here because you wanted to see me?” he asked gruffly. “Or was this just a convenient place to make out?”

  Penelope snickered, telling Wren that at least their lips had separated.

  Wren stepped away from the door and moved deeper into his home. He left the door open in silent invitation. Crossing to his kitchen, Wren pulled out a jug of iced tea he’d made a couple of days before. He set it on the small island that helped to separate his kitchen from the dining room. Next, he opened and closed a couple cupboards, placing a stack of hard-plastic cups, several spoons, and a sugar bowl on the island.

  As he poured his own glass of tea, Wren heard the front door close and the sound of heels tapping on his hardwood floor. Wren smiled and stared at his unsweetened tea. Penelope had been so busy with her new beau, he’d forgotten what her cute high heels sounded like on his floors. As Penelope walked into the room, her cheeks rosy—probably from a combination of the cold and that passionate sounding kiss—it hit Wren hard that his little Pen was an adult now. It wasn’t fair for him to stand in the way of her happiness.

  “What’s that smile on your face mean?” Penelope asked, helping herself to the two remaining plastic cups. “Do you want some iced tea?” She looked over shoulder, directing that question at Golren.

  The tall, slender African American male smiled at Penelope and shook his head. “No, thank you.”

  Penelope pushed the second glass away and helped herself to the jug. “Is this unsweetened?”

  “You know it is,” Wren confirmed. He pushed the sugar bowl toward her. “Here. Help yourself.”

  As Penelope doctored her tea, Wren held out his hand and pointed toward the archway leading to the living room. “I suppose we need to have a talk.”

  Golren nodded. “I suppose we do.”

  Wren picked up his tea and led the way into the living room. After he made his way to his favorite recliner, he waved toward the nearby sofa as he eased onto the cushions. Wren watched Golren take a seat. A moment
later, Penelope joined them, settling next to Golren. The man instantly wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. She lifted one brow in a challenging look he’d seen all too often growing up. Penelope was gearing up for an argument.

  Deciding to head that off first, Wren directed his attention to Golren. He opened his mouth and said something that, until yesterday, had never even crossed his mind. “Did I really see your friends turn, uh, well they were snakes and then human?”

  Golren nodded. “You did. We are boa constrictor shifters.”

  Wren rubbed his bearded chin slowly. It was all still so unbelievable to him. “So you can, too, then?”

  Golren nodded again.

  “And Penelope is your mate?” Wren continued. After getting another nod of confirmation from the man, he asked, “And what does being a mate mean, actually?” He’d been a little out of it with pleasure when Perseus had explained that they were mates. He needed to hear the facts again.

  “Shifters, uh—” Golren paused and glanced toward Penelope, sharing a look with her. “Well, shifters, gargoyles, vampires, and anything else that wouldn’t be considered human are generally lumped into the group of paranormals.”

  “Vampires are real, too?” Wren couldn’t help but ask, his mind stalling over that tidbit.

  “They are,” Golren confirmed.

  “Damn,” Wren mumbled. Einan’s comment about falling down the rabbit hole sure was hitting close to the truth. “Vampires, too.”

  “Anyway,” Golren continued.

  Wren listened as Golren explained shifters, gargoyles, and mates. He gripped his hard, plastic glass tightly, even though—by fifteen minutes into the conversation—he’d finished his iced tea. He learned that they considered their mate their other half of their soul. He learned how they were completely dedicated to that person and spent the rest of their lives pleasing them...loving them.

  His stomach rolling, Wren muttered, “Yeah, until they get tired of fu—” He paused and cleared his throat, then finished, “sleeping with only one person.”