Santa Claws (BBW Paranormal Shifter Romance) Page 6

  She waited until the last moment to put on her red and white dotted dress, applying a light dab of lip gloss, a touch of eyeshadow, and her favorite mascara while almost obsessively checking the clock every ten minutes or so. Finally, she slid into the dress, zipping up the back with the help of a hanger. She was thankful Susan had shown her that trick or she would have had to resort to sneaking down to the front lobby and asking Dot for help. Not that she thought Dot would have been anything but delighted to hear about her date, she just wasn’t sure she’d ever escape if the older woman got going about her own dating escapades. Elise wasn’t entirely sure but she thought Dot might have a bit of a fox in her.

  Grabbing her purse and mustering a bit of courage to fight back the nerves threatening to make her tremble, she set out. She figured she might as well walk to the bar. It was only three blocks down, and calling a cab when the weather was perfectly nice for a short stroll made no sense for her. Also, she wasn't sure there was any sort of local cab service anyway.

  The walk cleared her head, got her blood pumping, and put a little pink to her cheeks as she spotted the neon signs lighting up the windows just down the sidewalk. There were a few men out in on the front porch of the small tavern, smoking and chatting about nothing Elise cared to listen in on. She was focused on the door, and when she finally walked through the threshold she was somewhat shocked to see Erik there sitting at the bar. He was wearing a nice button-down, sitting by himself at the bar, and he looked just as surprised to see her there as she was to see him.

  She let her eyes scan the strange faces of the bar patrons, looking, searching for some sign of recognition. She received a few appraising looks from various men, but that was it. He must be late, she figured, so she headed toward Erik at the bar. She remembered the night before, listening to the mystery shifter's voice, her secret pleasure just from hearing his voice and she felt herself relax. He should be here anytime. Still feeling nervous, she ordered a glass of red and a bowl of maraschino cherries before she finally admitted to Erik why she was there.

  She was looking expectantly at the door, every time it opened, every person that walked past, she searched for something, some sign. There were a few handsome men there, but none of them had shown any sign they recognized her dress.

  She was fidgety, tapping her nails on the bar, clicking the heel of her shoe against the base of the stool. Erik gave her a few sideways glances, but didn't question why she was so antsy. She didn't expect him to; he already knew she was there to meet someone and telling him that much was adding to her anxiety and embarrassment.

  Erik stuck by her for half an hour, munching relentlessly on peanuts and not offering much for conversation, not that she was looking for it. It was admittedly a bit of a comfort having him there, someone she knew even if it was a short-lived work relationship. She was equal parts disappointed and relieved when Erik finally left, hoping that now, a half hour late, her mystery shifter would walk through the door any second.

  He didn’t.

  She couldn't help but feel a little dramatic as she texted Susan. He stood me up. He goddamn stood me up, Sue. I guess Santa forgot to put me on his list this year…

  She guiltily thought to last night and wondered if he'd figured out what she'd been up to during their call and decided he didn’t want to meet her after all. Cheeks flushing hot in embarrassment, Elise decided it didn't matter. He could have told her he wasn't into it. He could have let her know he was running late or not showing up.

  The wine burned a little on the way down but Elise was furious enough not to care. It was almost an hour after the time for their meeting had come and gone, and she’d just finished her third glass of wine when she was approached by five men. She’d noticed that they’d been watching her for a while but was on the wrong side of tipsy by that point, so when one of the men dropped into the barstool beside her and asked, “What’s a pretty lady like you doing all dolled up and still sitting alone?” she actually answered him.

  “I met this guy on PurrfectMates,” she admitted. “We were supposed to meet tonight but he’s late enough by now that I’m pretty sure he stood me up.”

  Their expressions instantly soured and the reality of what she’d just advertised to the men sank through the wine haze like a sobering bucket of cold water.

  “Why would you want a shifter?” one asked with clear disgust. “Humans shouldn’t mix with those folk, not in my book.”

  Elise took a calming breath, knowing she should just go back to the hotel and keep herself out of trouble. “Good thing I don't live in your book, then.” Her restraint never was her strongest quality. “Now, I'm not exactly craving any company right now, do you mind?”

  Well, if looks could kill she would have been a scorch mark on the wooden floor. Elise was quite proud of herself in that moment, that she managed not to wither and shrink away under the glares she received as the men moved on. She briefly considered texting Erik to give her a ride to her room, a smarter choice than taking a chance on whether this town even had cabs, but her pride had taken quite a hit being stood up like that. She was going to get herself back to her hotel like the independent woman she was.

  Her phone chimed. That asshole! Don't let one bad egg get you down, honey, there are so many more fish in the sea! Even Susan's words of encouragement meant little when she was so annoyed.

  This is so embarrassing. If I hadn't been so intent on this mystery Santa-man, I could have tested the waters with Erik the sexy sheriff. He sat with me here for half an hour before he went home.

  She checked her messages on PurrfectMates as a last ditch effort. Maybe something had happened and he hadn’t been able to get hold of her. There was nothing in her inbox, though, and she felt angry tears sting the corners of her eyes. She started to compose a message, scathing and angry, but she couldn't bring herself to send it.

  Erik was there?? Text him to come back, what have you got to lose?!

  Elise sighed. I can't, Sue, that's so unprofessional. Heading back to my hotel now, catch you later xx

  Susan responded almost immediately. Call me if you need to talk, honey. Men are rat bastards. Even Santa Claus. It was finished with a bunch of flame emojis. Elise sighed, brow furrowed in anger and frustration.

  Resolute and furious, she decided she would leave and walk back to her hotel. The walk over hadn't been that bad at all, and the fresh air would do her good. She glanced around the bar, looking for the group of slime balls that had been harassing her before. She saw them gathered over by the pool table, looking stupid as they drank their beers and laughed at each other. She waited until they were distracted by some half-drunk girl attempting to throw darts at the board in the corner before she made her move toward the door.

  The cool night air sobered her up a bit as she made her way down the sidewalk in the direction of her hotel. Her stomach dropped when she heard the door of the bar open behind her, the sudden burst of music accompanied by loud voices. She didn't have to look back to know exactly who it was. Suddenly aware that she’d made a horrible mistake, she hurried on with her head down. She'd made it barely ten paces away when the heckling began again. She briefly considered reaching for her phone and calling Erik, but she hurried her pace and kept her head down instead.

  “Come on baby!” one of the men shouted from distressingly close by. Elise’s heart was pounding in her chest and terror made it harder and harder to breathe. “We’re better than those mutants, we’ll prove it to you!”

  “No, no, no, no, no,” she chanted to herself and desperately tried to go faster but the high, thin heels of her shoes made even a fast walk precarious and she knew she couldn’t fall over. If she did it would all be over, she was beyond sure of that.

  She wasn’t fast enough, though, and she let out a shriek of surprise when rough hands grabbed her by the waist and yanked her around.

  The leering faces of two of the men were right there, their breath putrid with alcohol. Elise was suddenly frozen with fear as one of t
he men came in close, face inches away as he promised her a good time. Elise was frozen with fear, pleading and fumbling with her purse to grab her phone only to have her hand wrenched away. They were touching her, running their hands long her arms, reaching down to grab her ass.

  “Come on, baby, let us show you a good time. We'll give it to you better than any of those mutant shifters could.” Elise felt herself gag in fear, tears welling in her eyes. She heard the men laugh, and she closed her eyes shut tight. She didn't even think to scream. She didn't think to fight. She knew she would lose, and she closed her eyes, giving up.

  Chapter 8

  “Goodnight, Elise.” Erik didn't want to leave, but he couldn't stand to watch Elise's hopeful looks and sagging shoulders. He'd never stood someone up before, and being there to witness it firsthand made him glad of the fact.

  “Night, Erik!” she called out after him as he started toward the exit.

  As he walked away, he started to get one of those uneasy feelings he sometimes got. He felt his hackles raise, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end as his senses sharpened and he was painfully aware of how many shitty drunks lived in this town. It took everything he had not to turn back and go back to her side, putting himself between her and the rest of the bar’s patrons.

  The fresh, crisp air hit him like a slap in the face and he took a deep, desperate breath to clear his senses of her intoxicating scent.

  “There are lots of reasons you can’t tell her,” he told himself quietly as he leaned against the outside of the building and inhaled lungful after lungful of clean air. “Lots of reasons. You know that and this way is better.”

  He knew, deep down, that there were many reasons, but he wanted nothing more than to throw caution to the wind and go back in.

  He couldn’t help but fixate on the way the happy glow to Elise’s cheeks and the brightness in her eyes had faded over the half hour he’d stayed and pretended it was just a coincidence.

  He hovered in the parking lot for a while, uneasy and feeling guiltier about bailing on Elise than he’d care to admit, before deciding it wasn’t worth the risk of potentially exposing his nature and jeopardizing not only his position as sheriff, but the murder investigation as well.

  For all that society had come a long way in recent years—and there were laws that tried to protect shifter from hate crimes based on their nature—there were always those people who hated those who were different. Erik had spoken to people before who had likened it to racism and while he agreed in part, he knew that it was a lot more visceral than racism. It went back further than race wars, further than religion, further than known written languages. Cave paintings depicted pictures of humans hunting shifters, of shifters massacred protecting their families. Of gruesome creatures, half-man half-beast committing unthinkable acts.

  The hatred of shifters was often motivated more by fear and misunderstanding than anything else, which Erik could understand on a base level. Humans were hardwired to be wary of predators that posed a danger to them and shifters were not only predators, they could appear human as well. Deep into recorded history, creatures like shifters, vampires, were-people, etc. had filled humans with fear, with horror. Dark shifters, filled with their own hatred and desire for revenge, gave a bad name to every other shifter with no ill-intent.

  He understood the fear that motivated it but he could never understand the lows that some humans plunged to in an attempt to cope with that fear. The raw, animalistic hate that pushed people to extreme lengths, the resonant ignorance that filled their hate-filled speech.

  Erik knew that fear could drive otherwise reasonable people to do radical, dangerous things. He’d experienced it firsthand as a teenager. Falling for a human girl at seventeen, he’d started dating her seriously. Of course, Erik had grown up knowing well that it was safer to hide what he was but, filled with teenage bravado and the fearlessness of a predator, he’d confessed what he was to the girl.

  Blinded by what he thought was love he hadn’t noticed the gradual distancing for what it was and had been completely blindsided when she’d distracted him, allowing half a dozen of the boys from the football team to swarm him one night when they were sitting at the park.

  At seventeen he hadn’t been anywhere near approaching the level of power he had as a fully matured man. The heavy chains they had used had held him fast when they’d dumped him in the public swimming pool to drown. He wouldn’t have survived if a deputy hadn’t been driving by the pool and heard the clattering of the chains and the loud splash. He was getting out of his car to check things out when he saw and heard the boys running away down the street. Thinking they were just being reckless, disrespectful kids, he nearly left without checking the pool to see what they'd thrown in.

  Erik remembered the struggle and panic-stricken fear as he pulled and kicked and choked on the water flowing in his mouth, pressing in all around him. He gave up quickly, knowing he wouldn't be able to break free, knowing he was going to die and thinking of his mother before everything went black.

  He’d been unconscious and half-dead when the deputy had hauled him out of the pool and performed CPR. He could still remember the chill of the night air, the reek of chlorine in his nose as he coughed up the water and vomited on the officer's shoes.

  None of the teenagers involved were tried for attempted murder despite the deputy’s, and Erik’s mother’s, best efforts. He’d completed his college degree by correspondence and it had taken a very long time for the certainty that he was strong enough to avoid that happening again to return.

  He'd been in hiding ever since, deeply protective of his true identity. Not that he wasn't proud of his heritage, not that he didn't embrace his panther side, because he did. Every few months, he drove far away from home to hunt in the isolated woods, letting his panther take over for a few days before returning home to suppress everything he knew and hide in defensive fear.

  It only took a few minutes—he hadn’t even gotten halfway home—for Erik to decide he’d made the wrong decision in leaving Elise at the bar. She deserved to know the truth despite his misgivings. Erik was positive she wasn’t prejudiced against shifters, because she’d come to meet him in the first place (from a shifter dating site) and there was nothing malicious in any of their interactions. He’d listened to her talk about shifters and there had been no signs that she harbored an unusual fear or even felt anything less than warmly of them.

  He turned down a side street and turned the car around, driving back the way he’d come. He parked a little further down and used the hundred yard walk to collect his thoughts and figure out how best to explain his lie.

  The feeling he'd had before he left the bar hit him again, putting him on edge. Something wasn't right. There was malice in the air, thick and stinking like sulfur to his sensitive nose. He hurried his pace, senses heightened as he strained to hear anything, see anything, smell anything that would give him a clue as to why he was responding so strongly.

  The scent of fear was fresh and acidic and burned his nose the second he got within fifty yards of the bar. It took a split second for him to break into a run and follow the scent to a nearby alleyway. He could hear Elise’s frantic pleas, a desperate litany of “stop, please stop!” and the sudden anger that flooded through him was fierce and unforgiving. The sound of her pleading sobs, the smell of her fear, her tears, and her posture showed she had given up hope.

  “Get away from her!” he shouted as soon as he reached the end of the alley and could see the two men roughing her up. “Hands up and step away! Now!”

  Their drunken guffaws stopped for a moment as they turned to look at him, startled. “Sheriff’s department,” he growled and took a few more steps toward them. “Step away from her before I arrest you.”

  One of the men blatantly ignored him, turning back to Elise and roughly grabbing at her breasts. The other man looked slightly more worried, but seeing Elise shrink away and still not be able to avoid the touch, tears streaked down
her face and her breath coming in terrified bursts, Erik was past handling this in a calm and collected manner.

  His gun stayed holstered at his side because even as furious as he was he knew he would lose his job and possibly be arrested himself if he pulled his service weapon on them. They stared him down, not backing away, seeing how far he would go before they had to throw up their hands and act like they were all having a good time.

  Luckily, he had more than a firearm at his disposal. The shift came easily to him and it was fluid, taking a running leap from two feet and landing on four with a terrifying roar bursting past his fangs.

  The sight of a full-grown panther was enough to frighten the drunks into fleeing, garbled cries floating behind them. He had to use all of his self-control not to go after them, not to take a good sized hunk out of both of their asses. He stood, claws digging into the asphalt, sides heaving, watching them leave with a snarl on his face.

  Elise stared at him with wide, petrified eyes and cheeks stained with tears. He didn’t have time to shift back before she stiffened, reeking of fear, and fainted. He barely managed to get himself between her and the ground, preventing an impact with the cold, hard pavement.

  His clothes were damaged from the spontaneous shift but not unwearable, he discovered when he shifted back and scrambled into them.

  Erik’s own heart was pounding so hard and fast that he could barely hear Elise’s when he picked her up gently and cradled her against his chest. “You’re okay,” he said softly and hurried toward his car. Elise didn’t regain consciousness, not through the jostling or when he strapped her into the passenger seat and had to arrange her body so she was leaning up against the door and didn’t slump right over again.