Black Market Bear (A BBW Paranormal Shape Shifter Romance) (Genesis Valley Book 2)

Black Market Bear

Genesis Valley Book 2

By Amelia Jade

Black Market Bear

Copyright
@ 2016 by Amelia Jade

First Electronic Publication: July
2016

Amelia Jade

All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the author’s permission.

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental. The author does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for third-party websites or their content.

All sexual activities depicted occur between consenting characters 18 years or older who are not blood related.

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Black Market Bear

Ajax

Sunlight glared brilliantly against the perfectly clear windshield. The burst of heat followed a split second later as the sun moved out from behind one of the rare clouds in the sky.

Fingers found the keys without having to look, killing the engine and slipping them from the ignition. Metal jangled as keys bounced against one another, the noise dying away as he shoved them into his pocket. The door to his truck remained closed while he eyeballed the building that lay across the parking lot in front of him.

What had once been a mansion for some reclusive wealthy person had long since been renovated into a sprawling complex of outbuildings, including a large underground cavern that he couldn’t see from his current vantage point, but that was now exposed on the road up from the town below. Trees had once shielded it from view, but a fight between two massive dragon shifters had leveled many of them, exposing the entrance ramp and cavern to the naked eye. Even now teams worked to remove the trees and plant new ones, but it would be a long time before they grew as large as their predecessors. The cavern was only a part of the underground warren of tunnels and offices that existed.

Lionshead Mining Consortium, his employer, owned it all now, just as they did most of the land for miles in every direction. It was a good job and a good place to live. The pay was extremely generous, and he couldn’t imagine a more beautiful landscape to wake up to every morning. Trees stretched as far as the eye could see, and white-capped mountains rose high in the distance. Gently rolling hills surrounded the slight depression that had been named Genesis Valley, giving it a picturesque quality that never faded, even after a decade plus of residence in the area.

But despite all of that, he needed out. Perhaps not permanently, but for now, Ajax needed a break from his role. Considering he was the Alpha of the Emerald Crew, a group of bear shifters that mined the nearby mountains, a vacation wasn’t really something that was in the cards. In the ten years since he had been made Alpha, Ajax had never left his post. He couldn’t, because his crew had been too rowdy, too unstable to be without his guidance and—if necessary—his firm hand of leadership.

Things were different now, he told himself. Some of his crew were mated, and there were even several children living at Silverlake Resort, the wooded area just outside of town that his crew called home. They could live without him for several weeks while he did something he hadn’t been able to do in a long time: relax.

First though, he had to tell his bosses.

With a shake of his great head, he climbed out of the truck, his booted feet crunching on the gravel. The pavement had been destroyed beyond use some time ago, so the LMC had ordered it torn up to be repaved. The dry day caused a swirl of dust to accompany his footsteps as he crossed the distance. Taking the steps two at a time, he slowed his stride to push the door open in front of him.

“Hi Ajax.”

He nodded politely at the woman behind the counter. “Afternoon Mya,” he replied, not waiting to be shown down the hallway. He knew his way around.

“Valen is waiting for you,” Mya said as he pushed one of the swinging doors open.

“Thanks,” he replied, letting the door fall closed behind him.

Valen Kedyn and his twin brother Marcus owned Lionshead Mining. Ajax would need their permission to leave. He all but stalked down the hallway, his eyes focused on the mission. He knocked once on the door that simply read “Kedyn” on it.

“Come,” came the crisp female voice from inside.

“Hello Caia,” he rumbled, flashing the woman behind the desk a smile.

“Hey Ajax. He’s ready for you,” she said, pointing at the two wooden doors in the corner, using the pen she had in her hand as an arrow.

“Thank you.” He repeated the process, knocking firmly on the door and waiting for the voice on the other end to tell him to enter.

He slipped inside, pushing the door closed behind him.

“Ajax.”

He froze as the voice sounded from the middle of the room. He hadn’t yet turned to see where Valen was, but he knew he would be sitting behind the big desk that occupied the center of the room.

“Valen,” he said calmly, turning around at last.

“Everything okay? You seem a little uptight.”

Ajax wasn’t fooled for a second. Valen might appear to be relaxed and asking in a nonchalant manner, but he truly cared for his employees. He wanted them to be comfortable and happy, especially the various Alphas of the mining crews. Ajax was rarely ruffled by what went on around him, and he had picked up on the change in his employee immediately.

Which means I’m not hiding this nearly as well as I had hoped.

The big Alpha sighed. “Nothing is wrong. Not in the typical sense,” he said without preamble.

“But?” Valen prompted, recognizing his cue and humoring Ajax by asking.

“I need a break.”

That got Valen’s attention. “A break?”

Ajax nodded. “I need to get out for a bit.”

Valen tapped the pen he was holding against his bottom lip thoughtfully. “Why do you feel this way, do you think?”

“After everything that has happened recently, between the battles fought and the increase in number of females amongst us, I find myself feeling lost,” he replied, having expected such a question already.

“You are unmated, correct?”

Ajax snorted, his only reply. Valen knew full well that he was unmated, and he knew why as well.

“Fair enough,” Valen said, sitting back with a small smile. “Are you off to go find yourself a mate then?”

“I...” he paused. That hadn’t occurred to him at all. A mate? Him? He shook his head. “Not my intent, no. I’m not sure I could, not after…” He trailed off, looking around the opulent office. The Kedyns rarely showed their wealth, with the one exception being their office. Thick rugs covered much of the floor, with expensive, antique-looking tables, desks, and chairs occupying much of the space. On the wall large tapestries hung from ceiling to floor, depicting scenes and views from places the Kedyns had lived during their long lives.

“I understand,” Valen said, waving a hand as if to say “Forget I said anything.” “Where will you go?”

“Possibly the city,” he said with a shrug. “I’m really not sure yet. I just know that I need to be somewhere new for a bit.”

“Okay,” Valen said simply.

Ajax’s eyes widened, then narrowed suspiciously. “Okay?”

“Yes,” Valen replied.

“Just like that?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“No strings attached?”

Valen paused.

“I knew it,” Ajax said, frustrated. “What is it Valen?” His voice made it clear he was in no mood to play games.

“I need you to look into something for me.”

Ajax sighed. “Look into what? Just spit it out please,” he growled.

“I will need you to go to King City to look for someone.”

He frowned. “I’m not a detective, Valen. That’s not my job.”

The man behind the desk put his hands up. “I’m not asking you to open a police file on him. Just go to a couple of places—I’ll give you the locations—and ask if he’s been seen lately. See what you can find out, and let me know. That’s all, I promise.”

Ajax relaxed. “That’s it? Promise?”

His boss nodded. “Just ask around. He’s an old friend, and he hasn’t been heard from in about a week now. That’s very unlike him. I’m worried something might have happened. Depending on what you find, I’ll take it from there. I just can’t afford to leave right now.”

He considered the request, understanding where his boss was coming from. Everyone was busy right now, trying to rebuild Genesis Valley after all the calamity that had befallen it over the course of the previous year. A lot of damage had been done, both in physical destruction and via mental stress. Valen would find it hard to leave just then.

Even Ajax was supposed to have gone on a mission for the dragon shifter Ferro. But when the shifter-turned-bartender had returned with a mate, he had told Ajax not to worry about it, that things were okay, and would sort themselves out now. He hadn’t volunteered more information, but Ajax was okay with being released from his duties. It was that conversation that had spurred his desire to get out of Genesis Valley for a bit.

“Okay, what can you tell me about this man?” he asked with a sigh.

“He’s a shifter,” Valen said. “And he was looking into something for me.”

Ajax arched an eyebrow at the tone there. “This something doesn’t sound very…legal,” he said skeptically.

Valen gave him a humorless smile. “No, it is not. Let’s just say its existence on the open market would provoke a lot of anger between humans and shifters.”

“Great,” Ajax said, pulling up a chair to listen to what he was getting himself into.

At least I’m going to be doing it out there. That’s something, I suppose.

***

“This can’t be the place,” he muttered, shoving his hand into his pocket.

His fingers closed over a well-worn piece of paper. He pulled it out, unfolding it for what felt like the thousandth time since this little side trip of his began. It was a small square, with only four lines scribbled on it. Four names. He read the top one again.

The Right to Bear Arms.

Unbelievable.

“Why would a shifter
willingly
hang out here?” He shook his head. “You have got to be kidding me. Who in their right mind—” he stopped abruptly as passerby began to look at him strangely.

Fine. Do it quiet-like then.

He folded the paper back up, conscious of how many times he had looked at it. Trying to understand just what it was he had gotten himself into, Ajax proceeded across the street, dodging an oncoming car in the process. Right. Traffic. He hadn’t had to deal with that in a long time either.

The bar itself was a ramshackle affair, a storefront along the street sandwiched between a law firm that looked like it had lost one too many cases, and a dry cleaner. A single window to the right of the door had a hastily handwritten sign that simply said “Open” taped to it. White blinds were drawn behind it, yellowed and wrinkled with age.

“Hell of an establishment,” he said to himself as a tiny bell sounded above the door, signaling his arrival.

To his surprise, there were actually people inside. Not just one or two either—at least a dozen heads turned to stare in his direction. No stranger to establishing his right to be somewhere, Ajax stood still for a moment, taking a deep breath as he stared down the various curious looks. Most of them gave him a once over, and decided that he wasn’t worth it. At well over six feet in height, and consisting of large masses of muscle, Ajax cut a rather imposing figure. There were several sets of eyes that took their time eyeballing him, but in the end, even they turned around.

Ajax marked them nonetheless, knowing they would be the ones unafraid to come after him. He didn’t know if it was concealed weapons that increased their confidence, or just a sense of pride that didn’t know when to back down. Either way, they would be the first ones to come at him if something went wrong. Not that anything should; he was simply there to ask questions, figure out what the bartender knew, and leave. Simple as that.

He snorted audibly as the last challenging glare faded, and he stepped into the bar, making his way toward the back wall, where a middle-aged man with a horrible comb-over stood behind a cracked and stained bar. He was using a brown towel to wipe off some glasses. The clouded opaqueness told Ajax that the towel was likely anything but sanitary.

How the hell does a place like this stay open?

He was pretty sure there were roaches living behind the bar. Either that, or it was a really small mouse. As he approached, something told him that he shouldn’t be barging in asking questions if he wanted answers. It could have been the shaky, nervous glance the bartender gave him when he thought Ajax wasn’t looking. Whatever it was, he slowed his forward pace and gently slid into a stool at the bar, ignoring the rips in the checkered brown covering.

“Anything in a bottle,” he muttered in response to the inquisitive look from the bartender.

There was no way he was getting anything poured. Something sealed with at least a bit of cleanliness to it. Ajax wasn’t susceptible to any human diseases, nor did he need the place to be spotless. In fact, he preferred a bit of well-worn grime. But this place looked like the only way to improve it would be to incinerate the top inch off every surface.

An old TV haphazardly hung from the ceiling crackled to life, the tiny picture spitting out the day’s news in warped audio. One of the other patrons grumbled and the bartender reached up and banged on it until it switched channels. An old western came on, and the grumbling subsided.

Ajax couldn’t help but blink in confusion. The place had to be a setup. It had to be. There was no way something like this actually existed. It was a front, he decided. In the far corner behind him, an old man with a white handlebar mustache was slumped down on his table, sleeping.

He covered a laugh. No, it had to be real. Somehow, it actually existed. It was too much to be faked.

A brown bottle clinked down in front of him. Ajax waved off the bartender as he went to open it. He would do it himself—save as much dirt from his drink as possible. With a flick of his wrist he popped the cap off and brought the bottle to his lips. At least it was properly chilled.

Behind him, the door opened slowly, almost tentatively. The bell jingled lightly, and he heard the rustle as people stirred, their attention wandering over to the door. He didn’t think much of it while looking at the slight form as best he could in the dirty mirror behind the bar. He couldn’t make out much detail, but he could see it was no threat. Too small for him to worry about. Probably just another drunk come to start the day off.

A rumble of unintelligible words, along with a hiss of rapidly expelled air from more than one set of lungs made him focus his attention on the newcomer. He still didn’t want to turn in his chair; he wanted to cultivate an attitude of nonchalance to try and put the bartender more at ease. Perhaps that way, when Ajax was ready to question him, he would be more responsive.

As it turned out, he didn’t have to turn, because whoever it was made their way up to the bar next to him. He took another gulp of his beer, using the motion of throwing his head back to glance to his right in order to size the new person up.

Ajax almost choked on his beer.

It was a woman.

He recovered as smoothly as he could, forcing his attention away and down, but not before he caught a glimpse of her. Long brown hair was pulled back tightly into a strict ponytail. Big, thick-rimmed glasses slid down her nose, and as he watched discretely, she pushed them back up with a finger so absentmindedly that he knew it was a regular occurrence.

“Excuse me,” she said politely to the bartender, who had until then ignored her.

He continued doing so.

“Excuse me,” she repeated after a few moments.

The man behind the bar continued to face the other direction, wiping down glasses that had already been cleaned. By now he was just smearing around the dirt that wasn’t coming off.

The woman got frustrated and began to tap on the bar, but it didn’t help. She pushed off the bar to move around it, but Ajax shot out a hand, telling her to wait. He still didn’t look over at her, but this time, it was because he was concentrated on the object in his hands. Getting his aim just right, he let fly with a flick of his index finger.

The beer cap shot across the short distance in the blink of an eye, bouncing sharply off the tender skin right behind the man’s ear. He hissed, spinning on the spot to glare at the woman, his mouth opening with what was no doubt a sharp set of words. His anger died away as he saw Ajax just sitting there, hands outstretched, not having moved them. It was clear who had sent the object at him.

“She asked politely,” he rumbled, his deep voice echoing off the walls and filling the bar. He could feel the attention of the other patrons swivel to focus on him, but he no longer cared. It was one thing to be rude to him. It was another entirely to be an outright ass to a lady, especially when she was being nice.

“Of course,” the bartender said with a reedy hiss to his words. “What can I do for you?” he asked with fake sincerity, turning to look at the woman.

Ajax frowned, but his attention was yanked away in astonishment as the woman asked the same question he had.