MARS (BBW Bear Shifter MC Romance) (MC Bear Mates Book 1) Read online

  “What does that mean?” she asked, her voice growing hoarse.

  “I don’t know.”

  She let out a hissed breath, then fell back against the sheets once more. The movement made her realize how long she’d been sat upright in an awkward position. “That’s just great,” she bit off, then tilting her head up again, she pinned him with her glare, “Are the books wrong? When you find a shifter mate, can you shift too?”

  He snorted. “No, that’s bullshit.”

  “Well, that’s something,” she retorted snidely, firming her mouth in irritation. “Christ, I don’t believe this.”

  “No, I can’t either,” Kiko replied. “Yesterday, Mars was his usual fucked off self and now, he’s here. He’s made a blood sacrifice for his one.” He shook his head, apparently in astonishment. “It’s crazy.”

  His words put her off balance. The notion of a blood sacrifice, even for the ‘one’, sounded like something Kiko couldn’t begin to comprehend. Either Kiko didn’t hold much sway in mates, or this fucking ‘price’ Mars was paying was a doozy.

  She tried not to feel guilty. It wasn’t her fault she’d been shot on his home turf, but at the same time, it was a big deal what he’d done. What he was doing.

  Annette bit her lip. “He will be okay, won’t he?”

  “Yeah. I just can’t say when he’ll wake up. That’s all.”

  Clearing her throat, she replied, “I’m going to try to sleep. Take my mind off everything that’s going on, you know?” As well as a desperate need to use the bathroom.

  He nodded. “No worries. I’ll be outside the door if you have need of me.”

  That had her blinking. “Why would I?”

  “I don’t know,” he confessed. “The whole MC is on red alert. We don’t know what the fuck is going on.”

  “With the shooting?”

  He snorted. “Nah. Shit like that doesn’t happen on our turf, but it happens.”

  Great.

  He wafted a hand over at Mars. “He’s our second in command and he’s in a trance. We’re all worried as fuck. Every patch, even the ones who don’t live here, have been by to see how the bastard’s doing.” He winced. “And you too, of course.”

  She laughed a little. “Nice to know they care.”

  His lips twitched in shared amusement. “You’re a big deal too. Like I said, I’m one of the lucky ones—I grew up around quite a few mated pairs. Not everyone does. They’re all wide eyed at the fact you’re a mate.”

  “Aren’t shifters born to mates?”

  “Nah. What’d I tell ya? Don’t be believing any of the shit those books have to say. Mars was born to mates, but most of us weren’t.”

  Annette nodded her understanding, vague though that understanding was. “Thanks for explaining things, Kiko. You’ve been very patient.”

  He held out his hands. “My pleasure.” He got to his feet once more. “Like I said, you holler if you need anything.”

  As she watched him leave, she turned her head to the side again. Studying Mars’s face, she tried to discern if he looked better or worse than the last time she’d checked on him. As it was, she couldn’t really tell.

  Christ, what a difference a day made.

  She’d woken up yesterday, pissed off at having to see her shrink but pleased too because after her appointment at the clinic, she’d arranged to meet with one of the brothers at this MC—a whistle blower for a human trafficking ring The Nomads were involved in.

  When they’d met up, he’d taken her to a diner near to the MC’s clubhouse where she’d come face to face with Mars. Another whistle blower.

  Now Kiko had just told her that Mars was the second in command, which meant the dissension in the MC’s ranks couldn’t go much higher.

  She’d inadvertently walked into another shit storm. In fact, she wandered into them so often she either had to have a shit magnet or, which probably made far more sense, she loved brouhaha.

  Snorting at the word, she turned to look at Mars, a man who turned into a freakin’ bear, who belonged in not one, not two, but three different kinds of romance novels—shifter/contemporary romance because his hair alone was enough to make any woman weep/MC novel. And this guy was hers.

  Hers.

  Blinking at the notion that someone belonged to her, and that she belonged to someone else, she was definitely away with the fairies when his eyes opened, staring straight into hers.

  It took a few seconds to register that he was finally awake, but when she did, she almost melted.

  The look of adoration in those olive green beauties was enough to make even the Ice Queen get hot and sweaty. There was lust there and desire, but at their base, was wonder.

  And she, Annette Vogel, pain in the ass, was the cause of that.

  After clearing her throat, she whispered, “Morning.”

  He just smiled at her, then lifted his free arm and moved it over to cup her cheek. He fingered a few strands of hair that had fallen on her face, and suddenly, it hit her.

  She must look like a fucking disaster.

  “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, his voice croaky as he trailed a calloused finger over her flushed cheeks.

  Could she admit that female vanity had finally struck? Closing her eyes, hell, wincing, she whispered, “I must look like a mess.” Talk about understatement.

  “And I don’t?”

  His tone had her looking at him, and she smiled a little at his cocked brows. He was gorgeous. “I’m covered in blood and other not so nice things,” she confessed.

  “And I’m not?” He swept a hand down over his form and said, “Honey, you need to look again.”

  “I’m looking,” she teased. “But I like what I see.”

  “Well, the same works for me with you.” He let out a sigh. “I’m just relieved you’re okay. It was touch and go there for a while.”

  “Your friend was telling me.”

  He narrowed his eyes, suspicion immediately throbbed in the air. “Which friend?”

  “Kiko.”

  His sudden release of tension gave her whiplash. Apparently Mars had people he didn’t trust in the MC. “He explained what happened?” At her nod, he grimaced. “I’m so sorry, Annette. I never imagined for a minute that you’d ever be in any danger when I brought you here. If anything, this place is pretty much like a fortress.”

  “Yeah, well, by the sounds of it you need to work on getting bulletproof glass for your windows.”

  He flushed. “I’ve been around The Nomads since I was a kid. My dad was a Nomad before me. Never, ever, has this happened before. I can’t believe that it happened yesterday.”

  “A curious twist of fate,” she teased, surprising herself at how well she was handling all this.

  He must have thought the same thing because he frowned at her. “I thought you’d be screaming and going crazy this morning.”

  “I might have done if Kiko hadn’t answered a lot of my questions.” Then, admitting to herself she’d have handled it anyway, she shrugged. “I’ve dealt with worse. Been in worse situations. At least this isn’t a war zone.”

  “You’ve been to Iraq?”

  She pursed her lips. “Been to Afghanistan too. Got blown up in both places. Afghanistan didn’t do much damage, Iraq fucked with me more than I’d care to admit. I’m good at dealing with stuff.” Not that her therapist would agree.

  “Well, we’ll deal with it together now.”

  Annette wrinkled her nose. “I’m not good at sharing.”

  “You think I am?” He hooted out a laugh. “Yeah, babe, think again. I’m not. But it’s different now. I only know the tales, only know what I’ve seen and, whatever you think you know, you don’t. I don’t. Mates are like nothing else you could even believe, and that’s the truth of it.”

  She gulped at his somber tone, then, rather than deal with the subject at hand because it was freaking her out a little, Annette whispered, “Can we take off the bandages now? I really need to go pee.”
/>   He blinked at that, then grinned. “Sure.”

  Chapter Seven

  She was like nothing he’d ever expected, and nothing he’d ever imagined.

  Annette hadn’t squealed or shrieked as he’d peeled off the bandages. She’d looked a little peaky, granted, but she hadn’t gone totally girly on his ass. Mate or not, he’d have had zero idea how to handle her if she’d started going crazy at the sight of a bit of the red stuff.

  Truth be told, he hadn’t been all that sure of what he was getting into when he unraveled the bandages either. They’d been soaked with blood. Still damp from the amounts each of them had lost. But as they’d unwrapped their bound arms, there had been no blood on their flesh.

  Which was freaky as hell.

  It was almost like their arms had had a magnetic field around them, one that repelled blood. And the wounds they’d had to make on their forearms had cleared up like they’d never taken a knife to that sensitive strait of skin in the first place.

  Freakier still.

  Now, as he sat on the edge of the ruined bed, with the faint sounds of Annette tinkering around in the bathroom as she tried to wash up, he had to face facts.

  What he’d done last night had shaken him up.

  In fact, he was more shaken than he’d like to admit. However, one thing was solid in his mind… there was no way he was going to let Jackson get away with bringing that kind of fucked up danger onto clubhouse territory.

  Their headquarters were a kind of open secret. In the middle of nowhere, in a town that everyone was leaving… there was no reason to come here. Even the locals thought this place was a warehouse, and those that didn’t believe the cover story, knew enough to stay back and well away from their land. Granted, the traffickers could have followed one of their bikes back to the clubhouse, but it was unlikely. They all knew to watch out for any lurkers. They all knew to lose their trails if they felt they were being followed.

  The open secret of their location meant only one thing; Jackson had revealed the exact whereabouts of their clubhouse.

  Which meant he’d brought more danger than usual on to their territory.

  And for them to bring weapons too? Then Jackson had pulled some kind of shit on their backs, which had dragged the MC deeper into no man’s land.

  Fuck Jackson.

  His lips curled into a snarl, one that brought both the man’s and the beast’s opinion of their clan leader into union.

  Jackson’s actions had injured his mate. Mars had almost lost his one and only because of the Prez’s shitty decisions.

  He’d contacted Annette with the passive-aggressive desire to slip information to her. Information that would bring the traffickers down without the MC’s involvement.

  Now, that was the last thing he was concerned about.

  Because of what Jackson had done, Mars had the right to challenge any person who had endangered his mate. And in this case, it was the Prez.

  The only problem was, Mars knew in a challenge, he’d win. And if he won, that meant he’d have to become President of the MC.

  Yesterday, he hadn’t wanted that. Today, he still didn’t. No change there. But his life had completely tilted upside down in the space of twenty-four hours. Though that opinion hadn’t changed, it didn’t mean everything else had stayed stagnant.

  He now had a mate.

  That meant he had far more responsibilities than he’d had the day before. It also meant his duties had changed. First and foremost was Annette. Then the MC. His priorities had changed. But the MC was his life… and to protect Annette while remaining an integral part of the Nomads, that meant he’d have to go where his fate took him. Which was as Prez.

  Swearing under his breath, he rested his elbows on his knees and let his head hang heavy. He heard the bathroom door open, heard the tiny squeak of the hinges that were almost inaudible to human hearing, but though he knew Annette was heading his way, he didn’t move.

  Things were fucked up, and he was drained. Already. Last night’s sacrifice had taken a lot of his resources… and those of his bear too. Fatigue in no way covered how deeply exhausted he was. It was to the bone. The very magic that connected him to his bear had been tested last night; it had been used to save his mate’s life, but the drain on his reserves was too difficult to even quantify.

  When she stepped towards him, her movements whispery sounds, he didn’t budge. She stopped in front of him though, placing a hand on top of his head, and carefully ran her fingers over his scalp.

  The small caress made him shudder a little. His senses clamoring at her touch, her affection. His bear rumbled, content with the affection his mate was showing him. Hell, he was downright preening.

  After yesterday’s cacophony, his mate wasn’t panic-struck or sobbing out her fears. No, she was willingly touching him. Willingly caressing him. His bear, a primitive creature, felt the rudimentary stirrings of pride in his mate’s strength and fortitude. A sentiment Mars the man shared.

  He pushed his head into Annette’s belly. The softness of her curves gave way under the pressure, but she took the weight, and though she continued the movements over his scalp, she began to rub his neck too. Hell, if he could have purred, he would have. She slowly worked out the tension that had gathered at the base of his skull, making his words slur as he confessed, “I should be pampering you.”

  That had her snorting. “Pampering and I don’t go together.”

  Mars frowned a little at that. “You don’t like it?”

  “Nope. Last time someone tried to massage my shoulders, they got an uppercut to the nose as a thank you.”

  His shoulders started to shake at the image that conjured in his mind. Annette wasn’t tiny, but in comparison to him, she was. She had to be a foot shorter than him, after all. But he liked the idea that his small mate had the gumption to punch first and then question later.

  Hell, she’d fit right in with his brothers.

  The thought sobered him, but he carried on letting her soothe him. The last person who’d done that was his ma, and she’d died far too long ago for him to even recall what it was like to be coddled.

  She broke into his thoughts with; “I’ve never really liked being touched. The PTSD did away with all liking though.”

  That had him tilting his head back to look up at her. “You have PTSD?”

  There was a stubborn tilt to her chin when she nodded. Almost as though she were daring him to judge her for it. What she expected though, she didn’t get.

  “How badly?”

  “Bad enough.”

  He clucked his tongue. “You see a therapist?”

  “Yes. Unfortunately. One in the city.”

  “You live out in the city too?”

  “Yeah. Downtown Houston.”

  Now wasn’t the right time or the right place, but he had to get this off his chest. “I need to live here, Annette. Yesterday has only made things more complicated.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Our clubhouse location is a secret. We guard it well. For the shooters to know where to shoot means we have a leak, and that leak could only be Jackson. The shit never could hold his tongue. Because he put you in danger, I can legally challenge him. I couldn’t before. Just because I didn’t approve of the direction he was taking the MC in wasn’t reason enough to challenge his leadership. But now, that’s all changed.”