Bear in a Bookshop (Shifter Bodyguards Book 3) Read online

  Now was the time when she should simply tell the truth and forever harden her father's heart against Gunnar, as she was trying to harden her own. His family is the farthest thing from anyone's idea of "good." He's an ex-con, and oh by the way, remember that murderer who tried to kill Derek and Gaby not so long ago? That's his brother.

  Instead, she heard herself say, "I don't care about his family. I've never believed that someone's bloodline determines their worth. I just ... I just want to have a choice."

  Darius smiled thinly. "A choice, daughter? You speak as if falling in love is like selecting your next book to read. If you're approaching it from that perspective, no wonder you're trying to flee."

  "I'm not running away," Melody flared, as her dragon, affronted, spread its wings in her chest.

  "Really? And yet," he said mildly over the rim of his glass, "you're here, asking me for paternal advice. I don't even remember the last time that happened."

  "I would think you'd be supporting me in this," Melody snapped. "I've heard you say that you're glad you and my mother aren't mated."

  "I said that? When did I say that?" Darius asked, his voice turning sharp.

  "Er ..." It had been during one of her parents' fights, but she thought it best not to say so, if she wanted him to stay in a good mood. Both her parents, possessing even more than the usual amount of draconic pride, liked to preserve the polite fiction that their relationship had been calm, logical, and involved little emotion on either side, rather than being a stormy, tempestuous love affair that had broken up in the kind of fights that tended to flatten trees.

  Anyway, the last she'd heard, her mother was "finding herself" on a luxurious round-the-world cruise and having an excellent time, so it wasn't like Mom was pining away for want of a mate herself.

  The pause gave her time to gather her thoughts, but before she could speak, Heikon inserted himself into the conversation. "I might know a way."

  Darius shot him an annoyed look. Inside Melody, her dragon cried, No he doesn't! LA LA LA WE'RE NOT LISTENING—

  Hush, Melody ordered, to no effect, and tried to tune her creature out.

  "Which old wives' tales were you thinking of, precisely?" Darius asked in a cutting tone.

  "Concentrated essence of dragonsbane," Heikon said.

  Darius stiffened in his chair. Melody was merely confused. "But that's a deadly poison," she said. The deadliest poison known to dragonkind, in fact.

  "Not always. In less than lethal doses, it has other properties."

  "None of which I wish to inflict upon my daughter." Darius's voice carried a low rumble of draconic anger; the sound of rustling, leathery wings could almost be heard.

  "It's not your decision," Melody told him, and Darius gave her a look of profound surprise. She wasn't in the habit of openly defying him; her own boldness startled her. "Go on," she added to Heikon.

  The dragon lord steepled his fingers, elbows on his knees. "It is said, of dragonsbane, that it can be administered in a dose that leaves the human alive, but kills the dragon."

  Melody sucked in her breath. "We don't want that!" she cried, hearing her dragon's distressed echo beneath her voice.

  "I warn you, Heikon," Darius growled. "You are treading dangerously close to the limits of my hospitality."

  "And of my patience." Once again Melody was shocked at the boldness she heard in her own voice. It was as if the mate bond had changed her on a deep level. She no longer felt like quite so much of a child in her father's house.

  Heikon lifted his hands placatingly. "I meant no offense. Nor did I mean to suggest you should kill your beast; of course not. What I've heard, however, is that this property of dragonsbane can be used in extremely controlled doses to burn away the mate bond."

  Melody's dragon was still so agitated in its horror that she had to struggle to control it. The mere mention of dragonsbane had sent it into a frenzy. Darius seemed no less horrified; his face was paler than usual, and she could feel his dragon's anger as he set his brandy glass aside, a heaviness in the air like the charged tension before a storm.

  "Rumors and nonsense," he said sharply.

  "I've heard of it being done," Heikon said, unruffled. "As an attack, of course, not something that one would choose to do to oneself. This was many years ago, in a rival clan of ours. The mate bond of the clan's alpha pair was severed with dragonsbane by one of their enemies, or so it's said."

  "And they were unharmed?" Melody asked. "Their dragon or human side?"

  "So far as I know. Of course, I'm not sure if 'unharmed' is precisely the word I would use." His dark eyes were intent on her. "Ending a mate bond is a psychic wound from which few can recover. It should not be done lightly."

  "I assure you she is not planning to do it at all," Darius said. "Particularly not with something as dangerous as concentrated dragonsbane. Even touching it can be fatal."

  Thank you, father; some sense at last, her dragon declared.

  "Do either of you think you could let me speak for myself?" Melody said in profound exasperation.

  "I apologize for any distress I've caused either of you," Heikon said. "I was only answering your question."

  Darius glared at him before turning his fierce stare on Melody. "I hope you aren't considering this foolishness."

  "Where would I even obtain dragonsbane? I haven't the first notion. It comforts me to know that there might be a way. That's all I really wanted, I think." She rose from her chair and set aside her untouched glass of brandy.

  "We're not finished here," Darius began.

  "Actually, I need to get on the road," Melody said. "Or ... on the wing. Whatever. I'd like to be back before they find out I was gone, or Ben and Tessa will have a fit; they'll probably think someone kidnapped me in the night."

  She tried to force herself not to wonder about Gunnar's reaction. Would he worry? Would he think of her at all?

  "I would hate to be the cause of unnecessary distress," Darius said dryly. "In that case, please convey my regards to my son's mate." He gave her a sharp look. "I trust you are not contemplating anything foolish."

  "Do I have a habit of being foolish, Father?"

  "No," Darius said, somewhat to her surprise, "but there's a first time for everything, and love makes people behave irrationally ... or so I hear."

  "I'm not in love," she said, causing an anxious, desperate stir of fluttering from the dragon nestled in her chest. She honestly had no idea if it was a lie or not, although the dragon clearly seemed to think so. She had to get out of here; she couldn't keep discussing this with her father. She was too afraid she'd give something away.

  "Hmm. In any case, I suppose I will look forward to meeting your mate, daughter." This was said with a grimace of distaste that he didn't bother to hide. "Maddox will see you out."

  "I know my way." She dipped her head to Heikon. "Good night."

  She walked swiftly through the echoing halls of her father's mansion, and whether it was her dragon's doing or her own, her head was full of Gunnar: the sky blue of his eyes, the taste of his mouth, the way he looked when he smiled.

  I just want to have a choice, she'd told her father.

  She had spent her life giving in to what other people wanted for her. Now her body itself had betrayed her. Talking to her father had led to the surprising discovery that she wanted Gunnar enough that she was willing to fight for him. But ... was it really so wrong to want an escape hatch in case things went badly?

  It's not running away. It's not. It's just ... wanting a choice.

  She stopped when she realized where she was. Her wandering feet, as if they knew her mind better than she did, had taken her to the wing of the house where her father's office was.

  His office. With his safe. Which she knew the combination to; from her years helping him with the family business, she knew all his passwords and access codes. And she was also familiar with the contents of the safe, including a few vials of something she was pretty sure was dragonsbane.

/>   She let herself into the office. The huge, echoing space was full of shadows, the only illumination coming from the tall windows that appeared as brighter stripes against the gloom. By memory and feel she found her way to the desk and switched on a lamp, then paused when she realized that the large oil painting of her mother that used to cover the safe had been replaced with a large oil painting of her father's cat.

  Stay classy, Dad.

  She lifted down the painting and set it against the wall. The same combination she'd memorized still worked. She shifted aside papers, boxes of jewels, and gold bars—not her father's entire hoard by any means, just a small and ever-changing part of it that he liked to keep near him—until her fingers closed on a small, rugged plastic case, looking very out of place among the other luxurious items.

  Melody flipped it open. Three tiny vials nestled in the foam padding inside. There was a fourth space that was empty. She decided not to wonder what he'd used it for. Instead she took one of the vials very carefully, handling it with her fingertips. It looked so innocuous; tilting it, she saw there were only a few drops of clear liquid inside.

  Concentrated essence of dragonsbane.

  The idea of carrying it around in her pocket made her nervous. She wasn't sure if it could be absorbed through the skin, but she didn't want to take a chance, not just on her own behalf but also because of Ben, and because of Tessa's baby. How much dragon heritage did it take before a person was susceptible to dragonsbane? She wasn't going to use her loved ones as a test case. Instead she looked around for something to carry it in.

  "Aha." In the top of one of the boxes of treasures, she caught sight of a locket on a golden chain. It was heart-shaped and crusted with diamonds, not something she'd dream of wearing normally, but for a hiding place for poison, it would do. The vial just fit inside, snugly enough that it was unlikely to roll around and break.

  She fastened the gold chain around her neck and tucked the locket inside her sweater like the dirty secret that it was.

  Insurance, she told herself, as her stomach knotted into a guilty ball. That's all it is. A way out, for both of us, in case things don't work out.

  There was no guarantee she could get any later, she reminded herself as she put everything back, as close to how she'd found it as possible. If her dad realized that she knew about the poison in the safe, or even had thought of it as a possibility, he'd change the combination or hide it elsewhere.

  I need this for you, Gunnar. For us.

  So why did she feel so painfully, desperately ashamed?

  Chapter Seven: Gunnar

  Breakfast at the farmhouse was an informal affair. The adults fed the kids, but otherwise, as far as Gunnar could tell, everyone got up when they wanted to, and fed themselves from a selection of cereal, eggs, and leftovers from the night before.

  He'd awakened automatically at what would have been, for the last three years, prison wake-up call. Even before then, he'd drifted restlessly awake throughout the night. He had heard Melody come in, after having vanished for most of the night, shortly before the household began to stir. Lying in bed, listening to her soft, furtive steps on the stairs, he couldn't help wishing that those steps would turn his way, bringing her to his room to slip under the quilt beside him. She would be warm, yielding, her curves melting against him ...

  He tried to force his mind to other things before he had to stumble half-dressed through an unfamiliar house with a hard-on and find a bathroom to masturbate in. Staining these nice sheets and the apparently hand-made quilt seemed like a poor way to repay Gaby for her friendliness.

  But his dreams were full of Melody too, gray eyes like the sea and black hair that smelled like perfume and starlight. In his dreams, he was always searching for her, getting sad-eyed glances before she darted away. He knew that he should stay away—she'd be safer without him—but he couldn't seem to help following her, wherever she went.

  Safer without us? his bear scoffed. As if! We'll protect her from our brother or anything else that tries to hurt her.

  If only that was enough. The one thing he couldn't protect was her heart, and that was the thing, more than her physical wellbeing, that he risked by staying in her life.

  When sleep finally deserted him completely, he got out of bed and poked guiltily through the contents of the shelves in the room. They contained a random mix of clutter that had overflowed from the rest of the house, canned goods and knickknacks, photo albums and books. A book on local history looked interesting. He sat on the bed, opened it to the first page—

  —and quickly discovered that the text was, as usual, too dense and dry for him to read easily. Or, possibly, at all. He struggled onward for awhile, determined to beat it into submission through sheer effort, but when he found himself reading the same paragraph for the third time and understanding it no better than the first attempt, he gave up and skipped forward to the pictures and maps. Those were more fun.

  When he heard sounds of the household stirring, he took the book with him to the kitchen. He tried to convince himself that the point wasn't to impress Melody that he'd been reading a difficult book, but ... well ... that kind of was the point, wasn't it?

  Disappointingly, she wasn't anywhere in sight. All the other women were there, fussing over Gaby's baby. They saw him before he could slip off and everyone smiled at him, with a scattering of "hello" and "help yourself to whatever." Giving a nervous smile back, Gunnar got himself a cup of coffee and hovered awkwardly around the edges of the room for a little while before getting up the nerve to poke around until he found a box of Cheerios and a large bowl.

  "When are you due again, dear?" Gaby's mother asked Tessa, patting Tessa's pregnant stomach.

  "Only two more weeks, if they're on time." Tessa sighed. "From the size of me, not to mention all the kicking, I think little Whomever is as ready to come out as I am to have them out. I swear it feels like there must be a horse in there."

  "It's not entirely out of the question, is it?" Gaby asked teasingly, looking up from wiping some of Jimena's breakfast off the high chair.

  "A horse shifter, maybe. Better than an actual horse. I'm joking ... I hope." Tessa ruffled Jimena's dark curls, with little pink bows in them. "You've already carried one shifter baby. They don't ... you know ... shift in there, do they?"

  "No, Derek says it takes awhile for the shifting to show up. Mina here hasn't shifted yet." She chucked Jimena's round, pink cheek. "We're not even sure if she's going to. She only gets the shifting from one side, after all."

  Luisa turned around from the sink with a dish towel in one hand. "You should be so lucky if she doesn't. Running around after you was bad enough when you only had two legs. Imagine four! Might as well try to catch that little horse in the pasture out there—"

  "Mama!"

  It was all so warm and cozy and ... domestic. Even when Gunnar was a kid, his life had never been like this. There was nothing of the childhood he knew in this cheerful, sunny farm kitchen.

  He took his bowl of cereal and cup of coffee, and went out the kitchen door. He was just planning to sit and eat on the back steps, but it turned out there was a little patio with a picnic table. He was sitting there, eating, and poking through the book again, when the door opened and Melody came out with a cup of coffee and a piece of toast.

  "Hi," she said, smiling shyly. "May I join you?"

  Her hair was down, like last night, framing her face in midnight-black waves. The urge to run his fingers through it was so powerful that he hastily picked up his coffee cup instead, to give himself something to do with his hands.

  "Yeah, sure." He gestured at the bench-style seat across from his. "You don't need permission anyway. It's your house. I mean, I know it's not your house. But it's more like your house than my house."

  While he mentally kicked himself for his complete inability to make casual conversation, Melody sat down and snuck a not-subtle peek at the spine of his book, tilting her head to the side and exposing a creamy length of neck, wh
ere a flash of gold was briefly visible. A necklace? It vanished as she straightened her head, hidden by the high collar of her sweater.

  "That looks interesting," she said. "May I take a look?"

  "Sure." He shoved the book at her and picked up his spoon to stop himself from leaving his hand on the book, hoping their fingers would brush.

  It was stupid, the way he was behaving—like a kid with a crush. They'd kissed last night, hadn't they? He knew he had no right to ask for more, but ... he wanted more. So much more. But only if she was willing to give it, and he didn't know how to ask.

  Melody opened the book to a random page. Upside down, he glimpsed solid blocks of text in paragraphs half a page long. Her eyebrows went up. "Oh," she said. "This is ..."

  "Not the kind of thing you'd think I'd be into, right?" he said, trying for a self-deprecating smile that he was afraid came out as more of a grimace.

  "No, it's only ..." She took a deep breath and brought her hand up to her chest for a moment, as if to touch something there. Then she looked up and smiled at him. She wasn't wearing any makeup this morning; her lips were coral pink, a few shades darker than the tint of her cheeks. "Gunnar, I'm afraid we got off on the wrong foot yesterday, and a lot of that was my fault."

  "There was lots of blame to go around," he offered. "Lots of wrong feet. A whole centipede of wrong feet."

  Just as he was prepared to kick himself for saying something stupid, again, her laugh chimed; it was as musical as her voice. His heart skipped a beat. He'd done that. He'd made her laugh. He'd made her happy.

  Do it again! his bear told him.

  I can't exactly come up with witty lines on the fly, dumbass. I'm a felon who doesn't even have a high-school education, and she's—

  Smart. Beautiful. Perfect.

  Completely wrong for him.

  "Where did you get this, anyway?" Melody asked, flipping the book closed with her finger in her place to read the cover.