Read Beauty Dates the Beast Online

Authors: Jessica Sims

Beauty Dates the Beast (29 page)

He pushed me back down. “The doctor wants to keep you for a few days to ensure that you don’t have any bad effects from smoke inhalation.”

“You seem to be totally healthy.” The sight of him whole and smiling made relief flood through me.

“There’s a few perks to being a shifter.” I felt his heavy weight settle on the edge of the bed and he leaned over me, brushing a lock of hair off my face. “Bathsheba?”

My heart fluttered at the tender way that he said my name. “Yes?”

“Don’t
ever
pull a stunt like that again.”

I grimaced. “Which one? The one where I climbed out the window and stole the car, or the one where I shouted a warning and nearly had the Wendigo eat me, or the one where I nearly blew up the mansion?”

“All of them. When you’re dealing with shapeshifters and Wendigo and other supes, you can’t possibly compete.” His hand clenched mine.

Irked that he thought I was so fragile, I pointed out, “They were both twice your size. I had to do something or they would have killed you.”

“Not if that something involves sacrificing yourself,” he said, brushing my hair away from my face in sharp motions. He was rather upset, I realized. “Not if it means that I’m going to lose you.” Stroke, stroke, stroke. At the rate he was going, he was going to stroke all the hair straight off my
head. “He … he
hurt
you.” There was a world of anguish in that tone.

I brushed my knuckles along the stubble on his jaw. “Just a few scratches. He didn’t really hurt me.”

“Two busted ribs, a concussion, and lacerations on more than sixty percent of your body,” he shot back.

“He didn’t rape me.”

The tightness left his face.

“And I’d do it again if it saved you,” I said softly.

He jerked up and walked away, and I was swamped with burning disappointment. What was I thinking, falling in love with a shifter? I’d gotten too sappy, and he was probably trying to break it off with the human liability that he’d saddled himself with—

“I can’t do this, Bathsheba.” Beau was back at my bedside, looking tortured.

My breath caught in my throat. “Do what?”

He looked at me with haunted eyes. “I’ve led the Russell clan for twelve years. I’ve led the Alliance for eight. Everyone listens to me. If I snap my fingers, things get done.” His hands tightened on mine, and he stared at my small hand as if it fascinated him. “Yet ever since I’ve met you, you haven’t listened to a thing I’ve said.

“I don’t know what to do with you. You’re independent to the point of stubbornness, and even when you’re confronted with an opponent who’s stronger and meaner, you don’t give up. You go out of your way to protect Sara, who should be just as capable as you.
More
capable, because she’s a shifter.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but he continued on, his voice dropping low. “You even risked your life to save mine, when it could have killed you.”

Sudden tears pricked at my eyes. If this meant that I’d lost him forever, I’d …

I’d do it again. Over and over again.

I loved Beau with all my heart, I realized. I wanted to always be at his side, and protect him when I could. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

He wasn’t listening. “You’re the one person in the world that I can’t bend to do my will,” he said slowly. “And that’s why I can’t let you go. I refuse to accept that you want to break up with me.”

I stared at him in surprise.

He continued, “The Alliance is a dangerous place for a human—everyone plays rougher, and there’s a code you can’t even begin to comprehend. It’s too dangerous for you. The past few weeks have shown me that.” An anguished look crossed his face. “And I can’t change you even if you asked me.”

I nodded. “I’m immune,” I said softly.

His fingers continually stroked my hand. “Everyone warns me that I shouldn’t bring you further into my world, further into the Russell clan. But all I can think of is that I need to marry you to keep you safe—”

My heart leapt in my chest, and the heart monitor at the side of the bed beeped loudly. “You want to marry me—just to protect me?”

His grim face lightened a little. “Actually, I want to drag you back to my cabin, lock you away, and never let you out into the world again. I want to keep you at my side so I can watch over you always, and kiss you every time you walk past me.” His expression relaxed, changing to something more sensual, and his voice dropped into a husky whisper. “I want to smell every time that you think of me, and I want you to think of me several times a day.”

My mouth went a little dry. “Can we have tub sex again?”

He laughed and pressed a kiss to my knuckles. “We can definitely have tub sex.”

“It wouldn’t be so bad, then,” I mused, and I was rewarded with a brilliant smile. “But that’s the wrong reason to marry me. I don’t want you to marry me just because you want to protect me, Beau. And I can’t stay with you in the woods.”

His smile dropped away, and he looked devastated. He reluctantly let go of my hand. “I understand.”

“Wait,”
I said when he pulled away. I grasped the front of his shirt. “You
don’t
understand. I
want
to marry you, you dense, overgrown cat. I love you.”

Beau hugged me tight. “I love
you,
Bathsheba. Will you marry me? Join the Russell clan and be my mate?”

It was hard to talk around the emotional knot in my throat. “I can’t live in the woods and hide away from the world,” I warned. At his puzzled look, I said, “I need to run Giselle’s business.”

The lines were back around his mouth, but he was listening. “Go on.”

I continued, my courage bolstered. “I feel responsible for Giselle’s death. If not for me and you and Jason, she’d still be alive.”

He raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“And think of the database,” I said, warming to my subject. “Every paranormal for six states around is logged into that database. Not just Alliance—werewolf, vampire, and even some fey. Midnight Liaisons can be a common connection for all the paranormals in the area. We can connect couples, or families. And what about bodyguards? Or business transactions? There’s so much we could do. A
social network for the Alliance would be a terrific way to keep people connected, and the office can help people set up profiles and regulate traffic,” I said, getting excited. It was a brilliant concept.

“We’re getting married before you go back to that office,” he insisted. “You’re mine and no one else is touching you. Ever again.”

“All right,” I said, thrilling at the thought. The heart monitor beeped again.

“We’re marrying tomorrow,” he commanded.

I shook my head. “Let’s wait a week. I’d like to be able to stand upright for my wedding without medical assistance.”

“A week,” he declared. His face broke into a smug grin, as if he’d just been handed a crown and a scepter.

I asked the last thing that was bothering me. “And my being human won’t be a problem with your position in the Alliance? You won’t get kicked out of your leader spot?”

He shook his head. “If anything, we’re starting a trend. All of my brothers are out prowling the streets looking for naked blondes to jump out of windows and flatten grizzly bears.”

I swatted his arm and winced at the pain. “You’re an ass. I couldn’t possibly have flattened him.”

Beau’s lips twitched. “Just a little. Sara’s calling you Bathsheba Bear-Slayer.”

I laughed, even though it hurt. My hand clasped his and I looked into at his smiling gray eyes. “I’d rather be Bathsheba Russell.”

“Good. Because you’re probably going to want to kill me when you hear what I propose next,” he said somberly. “It involves Sara.”

As soon as I was released from the hospital, a meeting was set up between the Russell clan and the Anderson wolves. The location was a neutral patch of land not owned by either party. The cause for the get-together? An exchange of women: Sara for Savannah.

 

I rode with the Russell clan in their convoy of trucks and SUVs. Sara sat with me, remarkably calm. Since I’d last seen her, she’d dyed her short, shaggy hair bright blue, and she wore a ragged old concert T-shirt that I didn’t recognize. It made her look younger, but it also made her look a bit tougher. Or maybe it was the events of this last week that had finally hardened her. I wanted to hug her close, but I knew she didn’t want that. This was her battle, and I couldn’t fight it for her.

This was the only way to resolve the impasse without destroying both groups of shifters. It was the exchange or war.

I held my sister’s hand as we lined up at the
meeting site. Beau stood at the front of the clan. Ramsey stood next to him, his immense form nearly dwarfing the rest of us in shadow. Sara and I hung back, the only women among nearly a dozen men.

The wolf pack loped out of the woods in wolf form. After they circled the group once, they broke apart and transformed to their human forms. Naked.

To a one, they were all handsome. I hadn’t seen any ugly shifters (except for Garth) but they looked hard. And they eyed Sara with far too much attention.

One stepped forward, his face bearded and lined with years of hard living. “You brought the wolf girl?”

Sara tensed beside me.

“We brought
Sara
with us, yes,” Beau said. “Where’s Savannah?”

The lead werewolf glanced at Sara and me, shielded by a wall of Russell clan members, then raised a hand in the air. After a moment another man emerged from the woods, his arm around a young, dark-haired woman’s shoulders.

“That’s Savannah,” one of the Russell brothers murmured for my benefit.

Her clothes were muddy and she squinted at the sunlight as if she hadn’t seen it for a few days,
but she looked whole and healthy. And she didn’t seem upset, which was good.

When Savannah got closer, she broke free from the man at her side and staggered, as if recovering. Then she gave him an enquiring look, as if seeking permission.

How odd
.

Then she ran for the Russell clan, and was enveloped by the warm hugs of her cousins.

“She’s all yours again,” the werewolf leader drawled. “Give us Sara.”

My sister looked at me and squeezed my hand, letting me know it would be all right, and I squeezed hers back. I was so frightened that something would go wrong. That this would be the last time I would ever see her.

Then Sara stepped forward, a dainty, blue-haired figure among a horde of towering men. I pushed forward, determined to keep my eyes on her.

The werewolf leader sized her up, and his nostrils flared as he checked her scent. Then he smiled wide. “Hello, baby doll. We’re gonna treat you real nice.”

“I’m going with you of my own free will,” Sara pointed out. “A trade is a trade.”

The werewolf nodded.

“All right, then,” Sara said, and I heard the
slight wobble in her voice. “I’m now part of the wolf pack.”

Silence fell.

Then Ramsey stepped forward and dropped one huge hand over her shoulder, nearly covering it.

“In accordance with the law of the Bjorn and the were-bear clans, I claim this woman as my mate.”

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M
y sister cast me worried looks on the entire drive to the meeting grounds, her hands clutching mine. I kept my expression serene, knowing Bathsheba was looking for any sign of fear, and then she’d insist on me not doing this.

 

And then Savannah would probably die and I’d be responsible, and the wolves would keep hunting me for the rest of my life. I’d have to keep hiding the monster I’d become. Keep bathing in perfume to disguise my scent with other shifters. After six years of hiding, I was so very, very tired of living in fear—of waiting to turn the corner and have the world come crashing down, of making the wrong move and ruining everything once again. I knew I’d messed up Bathsheba’s life as well as my own. There was nothing I could do about that now.

But I
could
do something about Savannah’s life. So I smiled and watched the scenery with interest,
hoping Bath didn’t notice how sweaty my palms were.

We pulled up at an abandoned tract of land. Tall weeds overgrew the property and the barbed wire fence was falling down in several places. When I got out of the car, I smelled the faint scent of wolves. The back of my neck prickled and my mouth began to water with fear, two signs that I was close to changing into wolf form. I clamped the thought down and bit the inside of my cheek hard, struggling to maintain control. Now was not the time.

My sister scanned the woods, her brow wrinkling, and I knew she didn’t realize they were here. Every shifter in the area did, though. The posture of her fiancé, Beau Russell, changed from easy to alert. A few of the other Russells closed ranks around me, and a massive shadow loomed over my shoulder. I didn’t have to glance backward to see that it was Ramsey.

They surrounded me like Fort Sara. As if it would do any good.

Then Beau stepped forward and my shadow was gone, the two men standing side by side, waiting for the wolves to emerge. I bit my cheek harder.

After a few minutes, they appeared. The weedy grass led to taller bushes in the distance, which led to a thick stand of trees. I had guessed that was
where they were hiding, and I was correct. I hadn’t anticipated them appearing in wolf form, though. The smell of them filled my nostrils, overpowering all other scents and bringing with them a wealth of bad memories.

I crouched low in the kitchen, raising my arms over my head. “No, please, Roy … I’ll be good.”

“It’s because I love you that I have to teach you a lesson,” Roy said, snapping the belt over my head and lashing my arms and shoulders.

I whimpered in pain, knowing he would hit me harder if I screamed and alerted the neighbors. Roy wanted me to be strong. The beatings, he told me, were to condition me to pain.

I huddled smaller and waited for him to be done with his lesson. But then the belt caught me across the mouth and my mouth filled with blood. I spat it on the floor, then looked up to see that Roy was changing, his nose becoming to a wolf’s snout, his arms covered with hair …

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