Her Guardian Shifter

She sighed, unable to keep from imagining him as he transitioned from his animal form back to human. As always happened with their kind, he’d be fully aroused. Her body heated, the desire she’d experienced the night before back in full force.

And then she remembered he’d kissed her on the cheek. The cheek, not the lips. The kind of kiss a man gave to his mother or aunt or sister. Or friend.

That was what they were. Friends. She needed to constantly remind herself of that and she’d be fine.

She must have dozed, sitting in her armchair with a still slumbering Garth next to her. Eric’s tread on her old wooden stairs woke her; no matter how quiet anyone tried to be, the third and seventh steps squeaked.

After pushing herself up and out of her chair, she pulled the door open before he reached it.

“Hey,” he whispered. Even in the shadowy hallway, his blue eyes blazed. As he stepped into her living room, she could feel the satisfaction and coiled up energy rolling off him.

His inner beast had gone quiet. No longer restless, most likely sated by a run and a hunt. “How’d it go?” she asked, even though the question seemed unnecessary.

“It went well,” he said. “Very well. I feel much better. How’s Garth?”

“He slept the entire time you were gone. His color looks good. I checked his temperature one more time and it was the same. I’m sure he’s fine.”

Relief shone in her tenant’s face. “I really appreciate this.”

Mercilessly, she kept her gaze trained on his face, not daring to let it dip below his waist, though she badly wanted to see if his body revealed his certain arousal.

“I’d better go.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “See you tomorrow.”

When he bent to retrieve the portable crib, she got a great view of his nicely shaped backside.

Giving herself a mental slap, she dragged her eyes toward the baby, where they needed to be.

“He’s not moving,” Eric said, panic edging his voice. “JJ, Garth isn’t moving. I don’t think he’s breathing.”

“What?” She reacted without conscious thought, reaching for the infant and lifting him up to pat him soundly on the back. He gasped, his eyes flying open.

And then he let out a cry, a screeching sort of wail, so wonderful she sagged in relief.

“Garth.” Eric snatched him from her. “Baby boy?” Which only made him cry harder.

Trembling with relief, JJ reached into the crib and located the pacifier. She handed this to Eric, who held it to Garth’s mouth. Latching on and suckling wildly, he instantly ceased crying.

“What the heck was that?” Eric asked, bewilderment and panic lacing his voice. “I swear, I put my finger under his nose and he wasn’t breathing.”

“I don’t know.” Privately, she wondered if Eric had imagined it. “He must have been deeply asleep.” Tears stung the back of her eyes. “I’m so glad he’s okay.”

“Me, too.” The fierce tone told her how much the man meant it.

Aware she needed to be careful, she took a deep breath. “Earlier, you said he was full-blooded. If so, you know illness wouldn’t kill him.”

“I’m aware.” The shortness of Eric’s answer told her he was angry at himself for overreacting. “And while it’s true such a thing might not kill him, death isn’t always the worst thing that could happen to our kind. Think of a soul trapped in a nonfunctioning body. I’ve seen that before. A fever can cause brain damage.”

Slowly, she nodded. “I haven’t ever thought of it like that.”

“It’s because you’re not a parent.” He had no way of knowing how much those words stung.

All she could do was nod.

“What a night,” he continued. “I’m going take him downstairs now and get the both of us ready for bed.”

Good. Because maybe then she could sit down before her legs gave out from under her.

Apparently, he felt the same way. After jerking his head in a brusque nod, he grabbed the diaper bag and portable crib, then turned and left.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind him, JJ dropped into her chair, her entire body shaking. Had Eric imagined everything in a moment of overprotective panic, or had Garth really stopped breathing?

Truth be told, she didn’t know. Personally, she tended to lean more toward imagination, because every time she’d checked on him, the baby had been fine.

But after this, she had a feeling Eric wouldn’t trust her to watch his son ever again. Full-blooded or not.

* * *

Once he’d gotten Garth back home, Eric shook his head. What the hell was wrong with him? He’d never been the overprotective type of parent, stressing about his baby’s every sniffle. But for one split second there he’d been filled with a visceral dread, convinced something terrible and unimaginably awful had happened to his son.

Then Garth had drawn a breath and cried. Clearly, he was fine. Relief mixed with chagrin. His son was okay. Teething a little maybe, but all right. And Eric’s first reaction, that awful gut-churning response, had been to turn on the woman who’d been trying to help him.

He felt awful, though his one consolation was that maybe she hadn’t noticed.

Of course she had. He would find her tomorrow and offer an apology. Once he’d made sure his son had a clean diaper, he put him down for the night and climbed into bed.

When his cell phone rang at 1:00 a.m., waking him from a deep sleep, Eric fumbled for the phone and finally answered.

“Yolanda has gone off the deep end,” a familiar voice said. “That woman is stark raving crazy.”

Blinking, Eric didn’t speak at first while he tried to figure out why his friend Jason was calling. This was old news, restating the obvious.

“I thought I’d pass along a warning.” Jason worked for the Pack Protectors and acted as a liaison between the wolves and bears. He’d been helping Eric with his case ever since Yolanda had started her crazy accusations.

It helped that the Wolf Pack had lately been trying to end the divide between the bears and everyone else. It was slow going, as the distrust was mutual, but Eric gave them kudos for even trying. He certainly could always hope.

Eric had been brought up by two people who refused to accept the status quo. In Norway, they’d settled away from the small enclaves of their own kind, living among humans and other shifters before immigrating to the United States when Eric had been ten and settling in California, choosing a town with numerous other shifters, including Vedjorn.

Growing up, Eric hadn’t known there was any prejudice against bears. He and Jason—who had to be Pack, though of course they’d never discussed it—had been best friends since kindergarten. When Jason had gone into the military and from there the Pack Protectors, he’d never once lost contact with Eric. Even when his top-secret clearance revealed that his best friend was a Vedjorn bear shifter, Jason hadn’t turned away. Instead, he’d asked to work on the task force dedicated to keeping the few remaining Vedjorn safe.

Yawning, Eric rubbed his eyes. Luckily, the ringing phone hadn’t disturbed Garth, who still slept. Eric couldn’t stop himself from once again checking to make sure his son was breathing. He was, of course.

“Thanks, man, but couldn’t this have waited until morning? Is it really the kind of thing that warrants a phone call at 1:00 a.m.?”

Jason cursed. “I’m so sorry. I forgot you were on the East Coast. It’s only ten here. I just got home from work. It’s been a long day. Most of my afternoon and evening were spent dealing with your ex.”

“She doesn’t know where I am.” Eric felt quite confident in that knowledge. “You’re still the only one who knows, right? Everyone else—faculty, friends—all still think I went up to Seattle.”

“Yeah, still true. But you know what? I really didn’t get it before. Why you felt the need to put as much distance as possible between you and her.” Jason’s wry tone told Eric he did now. “Sure, she seemed a bit emotional. Dramatic, even. But not unstable.”

“Is she still trying to brand me a Berserker?” Though he hated to even speak the word, Eric didn’t have a choice. A true Berserker, though rare among their kind, was extremely dangerous. When Berserkers shifted into their bear selves, they could become uncontrollable killing machines. The Wolf Pack Protectors had been working in conjunction with the Vedjorn Bear Council in making sure any true Berserkers were destroyed before they killed any humans and brought unwelcome notice to the entire shape-shifter population. In Eric’s lifetime, he’d heard of only two, both back in Norway.

“Yes.” Jason sounded tired. “I’ve shifted with you, remember. I know you’re not. And I really don’t understand her plan. What is she hoping to achieve?”

“If I knew, I’d tell you. Despite her claims otherwise, it’s not like she truly wants our son—she handed him over without a backward glance and signed papers waiving all parental rights.” Again, rehashing old news. The two men had speculated endlessly over Yolanda’s motives. Since she wanted nothing to do with Garth, her reasons for stalking Eric remained a mystery.

“She flew into a rage at the office today when no one would tell her where she could find you. Something about having a score to settle. And needing to protect Garth.”

“Again, that makes no sense.” Before Eric could finish his statement, he heard an alarm that began shrieking in the background at Jason’s place. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah. That’s my burglar alarm. Perimeter alert. I need to check this out, so I’m going to let you go.” He ended the call.

Setting down his phone, Eric shook his head. With her rants and raves about Berserkers and the possibility that a sweet, innocent baby could be one, Yolanda presented a very real danger. He understood she wanted to harm their child and destroy Eric himself, which was why he’d hightailed it out of Cali. Eventually, she would turn back to her partying friends and forget about them. Until then—and maybe forever—he’d keep a low profile. All that mattered was making sure Garth stayed safe.

The phone call had startled Eric, making him wonder if he’d be able to go back to sleep. But apparently shape-shifting and hunting earlier had exhausted him, because he drifted off as soon as he laid his head on his pillow. When he opened his eyes again, bright sunlight reflecting on the snow outside lit up his room.

Instinctively, he checked on Garth. His son still slumbered, the rise and fall of his chest steady. The sight filled Eric with so much joy his throat felt tight.

The possibilities of this new life, with this child...he could ask for nothing more.

Once his son woke up, cheerful as always, Eric changed him and fed him. Then he ate his own breakfast.

The chime of his cell phone broke into his thoughts. He grabbed it. Caller ID showed Jason’s number.

“Jason,” he said, bracing himself for more tales of craziness. “What’s Yolanda done now?”

Silence on the other end. Then an unfamiliar male voice spoke. “This is Officer Frank DeLeon with the Pack Protectors. I regret to inform you that Jason is dead.”

“Dead?” Eric swallowed hard, pain knifing through him. “I just talked to him around one this morning. His alarm went off in the middle of our call. What happened? Intruders?”

A pause. “We’re reviewing the surveillance tapes now. It was pretty violent.”

Then, while Eric was still trying to wrap his mind around that, the voice continued. “And there’s more, unfortunately. We’ve also got a severely injured woman here. Judging from what we can tell from the crime scene, she and Jason were battling.”

“A woman?” At first he didn’t understand.

“Yes. She knew the drill, since she came armed with a pistol and silver bullets. After she shot Jason, she turned the gun on herself.”

“Who?” Eric cleared his throat, feeling as if he already knew the answer, but hoping he was wrong. “Who is the woman?”

“Mr. Mikkelson, we’ve tentatively identified her as your ex-wife, Yolanda. Your ex-wife and the person who was trying to make a case against you for allegedly being a true Berserker.”

Chapter 7

Another pause. Had there been accusation in the Pack Protector’s tone? When Officer DeLeon continued, Eric already knew exactly what he was going to say. “What I’ll need from you, Mr. Mikkelson, is proof of your whereabouts since 1:00 a.m.”

Stunned, shocked, Eric took a full twenty seconds to respond. “I’m in New York, sir. And yes, I can provide whatever proof you need.”

It was only after he’d hung up that he allowed himself to give in to his grief. Jason was gone. Not only his best friend, but his contact inside the Pack Protectors. The guy who always had his back. And Yolanda had taken herself out along with him.

Unfortunately, the phone call had been all too real. Jason was dead. Yolanda was seriously injured and in intensive care. The doctor had told Eric he wasn’t sure if she would pull through.

The taint of unspoken accusation had colored every sentence between Eric and Officer DeLeon. Even though it hadn’t taken long for the Pack Protectors to verify that Eric was indeed in New York, on the opposite side of the country.

From what DeLeon had reluctantly revealed, it appeared Yolanda had gone to Jason’s home to confront him. She’d purchased a pistol and some silver bullets, apparently with the intention of threatening him. Things had gone downhill from there. Everyone in Jason’s division had been familiar with the woman and her crazy accusations. No one had seen her as a viable threat, least of all Jason.

Privately, Eric thought she’d purchased the one weapon that could kill a shifter in order to eliminate him, once she got Jason to reveal her ex-husband and son’s location. He wondered if Jason had, before he died. Knowing his friend, Eric doubted it.

Poor Jason had been caught in the middle. A Pack Protector, he clearly hadn’t taken Yolanda seriously enough. This broke Eric’s heart.

Meanwhile, Yolanda continued to recover at the hospital. While a silver bullet could kill, she’d missed her heart and brain and any other vital organs. Now she had a fifty-fifty chance of survival.

One of their own had been killed and the Pack Protectors were in a frenzy to blame someone. At first it had seemed as if they were trying to figure out a way to accuse Eric, but in the end they’d had to acknowledge Yolanda had done this, and she’d acted alone.

However, Detective DeLeon’s casual use of the word Berserker concerned Eric. He sounded as if he had no idea what a Berserker was. Yolanda definitely wasn’t one, but the other man referred to her as a Berserker more than once. Luckily, as far as Eric and Garth were concerned, whatever caused bears to go wild was rarely passed down. Instead, it mostly appeared to be a random gene mutation.

Eric could not allow anything to happen to Garth, even if his birth mother was determined to be Berserker by people who knew no better. Eric had shifted with Yolanda and he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she wasn’t.

DeLeon had said Yolanda would be charged with murder if she lived. Right now, no one seemed certain she would. If she did, Eric could only hope she remained in police custody. He couldn’t help but pray that Jason, in his final moments, had not revealed Eric and Garth’s location.

* * *

Though most of the snow had melted, except for odd little pockets of dirty whiteness in the shadows of buildings or a particularly large tree, the slate-gray sky and icy, gusting wind promised another storm would be on the way sooner or later. After all, it was January.

JJ, like most of Forestwood, bustled around trying to run errands and stock up on supplies before she was snowed in again.

Her mother called from Australia just as JJ finished putting up the groceries. It was summer there, and her mom always loved to tell her how much fun she had at the beach in the blazing hot sun. She didn’t seem to ever grasp the fact that her daughter really preferred fall and winter.

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