Last Chance Mate: Tate (Paranormal Shapeshifter Mystery Romance) Page 4

  “And if you didn’t want your weird magic books to be hawked off in open auction…” Tate trailed off, arching a brow at her.

  “Let’s open it up,” she replied, tucking her flashlight into her armpit.

  Fingers carefully peeling away the tape, Tessa folded the cardboard flaps aside, practically holding her breath as she did. When a thick leather tomb with odd symbols on the front came into view, Tate could see her hands trembling.

  “This is it,” she stated, pulling her hand back as if the book had bitten her. “I’ve seen these characters before.”

  “Where?” Tate asked, looking from her to the book.

  “On Loch’s collar links,” she replied, her voice shaky.

  An uneasy feeling settled over Tate. Hadn’t this been what they had hoped to find? Yet now, his wolf growling softly beneath his skin, the last thing Tate felt like doing was opening up that book.

  But what other choice did they have?

  Seven

  Tessa

  How can a book be so creepy?

  It didn’t seem logical, but when Tessa picked the thing up and carried it over to the desk near the back wall, she felt a shiver run down her back. Maybe it was just because it made her think of Loch again, standing close enough for her to make out the symbols on his collar.

  If I never see that man’s face again it’ll be too soon.

  Running her fingers over the blackened leather, Tessa hesitated for a moment before flipping the book open. The pages were worn, with handwritten text and hand-drawn symbols. The ink bled in places, the writing elegant and looping, and the pictures unlike anything she had seen before.

  “This has to have some answers, right?” Tate asked at her side, his gaze sliding along the pages. “It can’t be a coincidence this book has the same symbols on it as you saw on Loch.”

  “I guess we’re about to find out,” she replied, taking in a deep breath.

  Tate grabbed a couple of chairs from a pile near the wall and placed them behind the desk. Tessa sat down, her knees feeling somewhat weak. Taking his place next to her, Tate watched her turn the pages, his shoulder bumping against hers.

  Just having him there made her feel braver. Like maybe everything was going to be okay.

  “Banished to the other side, their fire and brimstone cannot easily pass over to our realm. But we must remain vigilant, always. Know that becoming careless can end in disaster,” Tessa read out, her brow furrowing. “This almost sounds like it’s addressed to someone specific.”

  “Yeah, maybe,” Tate replied. “It would help if it were less vague.”

  “Let’s just flip through it at first, see if something jumps out. If we start reading all of it, we’ll be here until morning,” she said, turning the page.

  Skimming over the titles and the underlined words, she kept going, heart starting to beat faster as the text seemed to get more grim and desolate by the page. There was a chapter devoted solely to hellfire, it seemed, with a gruesome illustration of a man being licked by flames on the side.

  What the hell was Mr. Thompson into?

  When she quickly turned the next page, her hands froze, and a huge lump formed in her throat. Tate sucked in a breath as he pulled the book closer, tracing his finger around a picture in the middle of the page.

  There, in black and green ink, was a perfect rendition of the amulet currently burning a hole in Tessa’s pocket, right down to the size of the gold loops on the chain. The teardrop shape of the pendant, with its swooping edges, the rounded, unpolished stone in the middle… Everything was the same.

  “It’s the same, right?” she turned to Tate. “I’m not the only one seeing it, am I?”

  “It’s definitely the same,” he replied, his shoulders tense. “And I think we can rule out Loch wanting to get his hands on it because it’s such a fashionable accessory,” he added, pointing to a line of text next to the drawing.

  “Demons can be tricky creatures. Do not be fooled by the face they wear, because the one beneath it is the true representation of their rotten souls,” Tessa read aloud, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end. “Demons?” she gaped, turning back to Tate. “Like, from hell? Like, minions of the devil, that kind of stuff?”

  It was suddenly getting hard to breathe. Yes, she had wanted answers. And it was clear Loch had unexplained powers, which he used to be the creepiest asshole he could be. But demons? That was a lot to take in.

  Tate placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently, rooting her back in the real world.

  “Deep breath,” he said, and Tessa followed his instruction, filling up her lungs and then slowly exhaling. “Whatever this means, we will deal with it, together. We wanted answers, right? And if he has any weaknesses, which I’m sure he does, it’s a good bet we’ll find them in here,” he added, tapping a finger against the page.

  “You’re right,” she nodded. “This is a good thing. But still… Demons?”

  “Hey, I can turn into a wolf,” Tate smiled at her. “This world is a crazy place.”

  “Can’t argue with that,” she scoffed. “I just can’t put together how Mr. Thompson fits into all of this. Clearly he knew about all this stuff, but why? How?”

  “We can’t exactly ask him,” Tate shrugged. “Or, I hope we can’t, anyway. Unless those books have another idea. I’m afraid that might remain a mystery.”

  “At least he left behind this,” she pointed her chin at the book.

  She was just about to continue reading when Tate tensed at her side, head swiveling away from her.

  “What?” she whispered, immediately on edge.

  “I hear something,” he replied. “Sounds like a car.”

  Tessa perked up, listening to the house creak around them.

  “I don’t hear anything,” she said.

  “Trust me,” Tate tapped against his ear. “Someone is coming.”

  “You’re the shifter,” Tessa said, slamming the book shut. “Then we better get out of here before we have to explain to the cops that demons are real and get thrown into the loony bin.”

  Tate was already on his feet, a focused look on his face.

  “Wait,” she quickly said, rushing back to the box they got the book from and hurriedly resealing it. “And we’re taking this with us,” she added, tucking the book into her armpit.

  Tate only gave her a quick nod before grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the door. He quickly locked it behind them before heading for the stairs. Now, even Tessa could hear the sound of an engine pulling closer.

  Adrenaline started to pound through her veins as she let Tate pull her along, Switching off her flashlight, she shoved it into the pocket of her hoodie, and did her best to keep up with him.

  He stopped abruptly when they got to the kitchen, a soft growl emanating from his chest. Before she could even ask what was wrong, he had his arms around her, and was pulling her to the ground. His warm hand pressed against her mouth as he crouched behind her.

  Tessa was sitting on her haunches, her back pressed against Tate’s chest and her head buzzing. This was the most excitement she had had in… Ever, maybe? And it was a lot. Yet, as scary and overwhelming as all of this was, she had to admit it was also the most alive she had felt in a long while.

  Footsteps sounded from outside, and a ball of light shone through the windows, moving across the walls above her and Tate. It had to be someone checking on the property, just like Tate had predicted.

  Of all the people I could have run into today, I stumbled upon the right one to break and enter with, she almost laughed to herself.

  There was nothing funny about their situation, really. It was more that it seemed fate had a strange sense of humor, or serendipity, or maybe both? Tessa had never put much stock in coincidence, but that didn’t exactly mean she believed in destiny.

  Then again, I didn’t think demons were real, either.

  Tessa held her breath when the steps drew closer to the kitchen door. Could whoever was out
there see the lock had been tampered with? If they stepped inside right now, that would be that. She would be arrested, the book would be put back and the amulet? Who knew what would become of that.

  Time stood still as she and Tate waited, his hand slipping away from her mouth to rest on her shoulder instead. It should have felt weird, being so physically close with someone she barely knew.

  Personal space was important, after all.

  But she found herself leaning into him, instead, enjoying the way his large frame wrapped around her. It was almost like an embrace, despite the fact they were currently trying not to get caught in the middle of committing a crime together.

  Jesus, what’s wrong with me? Tessa briefly wondered. You’d think I’ve never been close to a man in my life.

  “I think they’re gone,” Tate whispered, pulling her out of her thoughts.

  Helping her back on her feet, he shot her a look she couldn’t read, his gaze boring right through her for the briefest moment before he went to stand by the kitchen door. He was still for a couple of seconds, totally unmoving, before turning around and grabbing her hand in his again.

  Slowly creaking the door open, he stepped outside first, his steps quiet on the dewy grass.

  And then they ran toward the tree line, not looking back once.

  Eight

  Tate

  “Now that was a close call,” Tessa sighed, closing the door behind her and resting her back against it.

  They were back in the room Tate was renting, still not wanting to chance going back to Tessa’s place. Rolling her shoulders, Tessa walked over and placed the book on the table, plopping down into the chair next to it.

  “No one saw us. You can relax,” Tate said, leaning on the wall opposite her.

  “I’m not sure I’m even capable of relaxing right now,” she replied, propping her elbow onto the table and resting her chin in her palm. “Not with everything that’s going on,” she glanced down at the book.

  “Hey, all that can wait,” Tate said, watching her suppress a yawn. “Look at the day you’ve had – started with a visit from a demon, and ended with breaking and entering. We can go through the book tomorrow.”

  “But should we really…” Tessa started to argue.

  “We’re not going to be able to make sense of any of it exhausted and delirious from sleep deprivation,” he interjected.

  “I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around it, tired or not,” Tessa sighed. “But I guess you have a point. I don’t think falling asleep will be easy, though.”

  “I’ve got just the thing,” Tate grinned, walking over to his duffel bag and pulling out a bottle of Jack Daniels.

  If he should have been ashamed that he had liquor within arm’s reach, he certainly didn’t feel it. He held it up in the air before grabbing two plastic cups from his bedside drawer and sitting down opposite Tessa. Pushing the book aside, he placed the cups on the table and opened up the bottle.

  “Now that’s what I’m talking about,” Tessa smiled. “God, I really do need a drink.”

  “I thought you might,” he replied, pouring three fingers into each cup and sliding one her way.

  “How are you so calm? Because I am totally freaking out,” she shook her head, curling her fingers around the cup.

  “You don’t show it,” he remarked.

  “Oh, please,” she scoffed. “I feel like my hands haven’t stopped trembling for a second.”

  “You got terrorized by a demon,” Tate cocked his head at her. “Give yourself some credit. Most people would probably be in a locked psych ward right now.”

  “If you say so,” she smiled, taking a sip. “Still, you’re awfully good under pressure.”

  “It’s an acquired skill,” he shrugged, tipping the cup to his mouth.

  Who would have known his fucked up childhood would actually come in handy? It didn’t change the way he felt about his dad, but still… Being useful was good. Helping Tessa was the right thing to do. Gave him distraction and purpose, if only for a while.

  “It’s impressive the way you can answer a question without actually revealing anything,” she teased, hitting back whatever was left in her cup.

  Face scrunching up, she slammed the cup on the table, the plastic crinkling. Tate chuckled to himself as he refilled it. A warmth spread out in his limbs, maybe because of the alcohol, or maybe because he wasn’t drinking alone for once.

  “You don’t mess around, do you?” he commented, earning a grin from Tessa.

  “Life is short,” she shrugged in response. “Besides, if there was ever a day to get drunk…”

  “Amen to that,” Tate agreed.

  “So,” Tessa glanced around. “What brought you to Whitefish in the first place?”

  “Nothing specific,” he replied. “I’ve been roaming around, moving from one town to the next. This seemed like a nice place. Have you always lived here?”

  “Born and raised,” she nodded. “I did leave for a while but… I had to come back.”

  “Why’s that?” Tate asked, finishing off his drink and pouring another.

  Tessa tapped her fingernails on the edge of the table, looking down at her feet.

  “My mom got sick,” she said after a moment. “I came back to spend time with her. Before… you know.”

  “I’m sorry,” Tate said. “She passed away?”

  “Almost a year ago now,” she replied, glancing up at him. “She left me the store. Mayberry Antiques.” She clucked her tongue. “So I stayed.”

  There was a resigned tone to her voice that made Tate want to reach across the table and squeeze her hand, but he didn’t. His wolf growled, protesting at the decision.

  “Because you wanted to run the store?” he asked instead, searching her face.

  “More like it felt like I had to…” she trailed off. “Anyway, it is what it is,” she shook her head, looking up at him with gleaming eyes and flushing cheeks. “Do you have any family, waiting for you somewhere?”

  Tate leaned back in his chair. Tessa couldn’t have known what a loaded question that was. He did have a family, didn’t he? Not blood but… Family in all the ways that mattered. And he had abandoned them.

  “My parents are dead,” he ended up saying.

  “Any siblings?” she prompted.

  “Nope,” he replied, his jaw locking.

  “Me neither,” Tessa sighed. “It was always just me and my mom. Dad passed away before I was born.”

  “You must have been very close,” Tate commented, focusing on Tessa instead of the hollow feeling in his gut.

  It was always there, that feeling he was straying away from what he was meant to do. Sometimes it was stronger, sometimes he would be able to push it down. But looking at Tessa smile to herself on the other side of the table, he felt it ebb away, making room for something else.

  “We were,” she said, trailing a finger around the rim of her cup. “I always used to help out around that stupid store… With all the old, dusty stuff that couldn’t be more boring to a kid. But she would be able to make it interesting. "

  “She said there was a story attached to every item. A person that loved it once, that it brought joy to. We used to try and guess what the stories might have been. Some of my best memories come from that store.”

  The warmth in her voice spread over Tate as she drew her into her story. Did he have such memories from his family? If he did, he couldn’t recall them.

  “Now that’s just cute as hell,” he remarked. “Or should I not use the h-word anymore?”

  She laughed, her nose crinkling and her hair falling around her face. At the risk of being totally, inexcusably sappy – he had to admit, it was a beautiful sight to see. She should always be laughing, smiling, not mixed up in this ugliness they were now entangled in.

  Dealing with stuff like this could make a person bitter, that much he knew.

  “Let’s not give it undue power over us. It’s just a word,” she replied.

 
Tate watched her lean back in her chair and roll her neck, the outline of her body stretching out in front of him. A soft sensuality exuded from her every move, and he had to bite back a possessive growl. Tessa wasn’t his, and he definitely wasn’t going to make a move on her after all she had been through today.

  “You can have the bed. I have a sleeping bag in my duffel,” he said, as she covered up a yawn with her hand.

  “I can’t take your bed,” she protested.

  “Of course you can,” he smiled. “It’s not like this is the first time I’m sleeping on the floor. And I insist.”

  “Thank you,” Tessa said. “For the drink,” she pointed at the cup. “And for everything else.”

  “You can stop thanking me,” Tate waved a hand. “I like having you around.”

  It was the truth – she made him feel whole again, like there was a point to everything. But he knew it couldn’t last. Once they had found a way to deal with Loch, he would keep moving, and Tessa would stay here, to take care of the family business.

  It won’t do either of us any good to get attached.

  But deep down he knew, it was already too late.

  Nine

  Tessa

  Tessa’s eyes fluttered shut as soon as her head hit the pillow. The adrenaline had worn off, leaving only deep, overwhelming exhaustion in its wake. Even the thought of demons being real wasn’t enough to keep her awake.

  Besides, Tate was on the floor, curled up in a sleeping bag just mere feet from her. That made her feel safe, knowing he was keeping watch over her dreams.

  Sinking into the mattress, Tessa let sleep claim her as she fell into a dark void, her muscles relaxing and her breathing slow and deep. Everything drifted away, and she was grateful of that. She’d had more than enough excitement for one day.

  She was vaguely aware she was dreaming when she found herself in a large meadow, her bare feet tickled by damp grass. The sun was just rising, casting an orange glow over the wildflowers peeking through the green.