Dark and Deadly: Eight Bad Boys of Paranormal Romance (11 page)

“Olaf? Mostly. He just gets scared at night. You sleep okay?”

“Yes.” She had. In spite of the late night and early start, Elizabeth felt refreshed. In the room with Olaf and Ronan, she’d let herself completely relax for the first time in . . . well, forever.

Spike and Ellison were waiting outside the store when they arrived. Ellison lounged on the hood of his pickup, a long, tall Texan if Elizabeth ever saw one, though Ronan had told her he’d come here from Colorado.

Spike looked pure urban biker. He leaned against the wall outside the store, skin well inked, sunglasses against the glare, and motorcycle boots and grease-stained jeans to Ellison’s cowboy boots. This morning, though, one side of his face was purple and black, and when he took off his sunglasses, his left eye definitely sported a shiner.

“What happened to you?” Elizabeth asked.

“Fight club.” Spike shrugged tight shoulders. “Don’t tell Liam.”

Elizabeth wanted to ask, but other store owners were looking out their doors at the Shifters. Elizabeth got the store unlocked and them inside as quickly as she could.

“Fight club?” she asked Ronan as Ellison and Spike carried toolboxes to the torn-up wall. The two Shifters started pondering how to fix it in the universal male way of standing back and staring at it.

Ronan didn’t look very surprised at her question. “Liam gets pissed off, because he says it’s glorified cock fighting, and he’s right. But he doesn’t stop Shifters going—the fights allow us to let off steam. Fight clubs are privately arranged bouts between Shifters, no holds barred. Not exactly legal, but humans bet on us, and we give them a good show, so there’s a lot of looking the other way.”

“Like gladiators.” Elizabeth’s gaze went to the Collar snug against Ronan’s big neck, the Celtic knot at his throat. “Don’t your Collars stop you?”

“Oh, they go off. Believe me. It evens the field, Shifter against Shifter. Some are better than others at fighting through the pain. Spike’s one of the favorites. Trust me, the other guy will look worse.”

Elizabeth stared at him. “You have to be crazy. I’ve seen underground boxing and mixed martial arts meets, and they’re brutal. Shifter ones have to be even more brutal.”

“They can be. But Shifters are tough, Elizabeth. And sometimes we have to fight, or we go a little nuts. Humans think they suppress our fighting instincts with the Collars, but the instincts don’t go away. Except that now, we have no natural outlet. So Liam pretends he doesn’t see a dozen Shifters disappear at night and come back bruised and Collar-wasted. Even Scott’s been going lately.”

“And you
let
him? Ronan . . .”

“He’s a Shifter going through his Transition. Scott wants to fight all the time these days—at the fight clubs, at least, the other Shifters let him work it off, and they take care of him.”

Elizabeth rubbed her forehead. “The more I learn about you, the more I realize I don’t know. I was right in the first place. You’re crazy.”

Ronan grinned, the warm one that lit his eyes. “Yeah, but crazy in a good way.”

“You take a big risk telling me this. You’ve told me a lot of things I could report to the human cops, you know. I wouldn’t, but why do you trust that I won’t?”

Ronan drew a finger along one of the red streaks in Elizabeth’s hair. “Because I know,” he said in his quiet voice. “You’re one of the good ones.”

Elizabeth’s body heated instantly at his touch. She thought of lying in the dark with him nearby all night, loving having him there. This was getting dangerous.

A whistle pierced the air, and Elizabeth, nerves frayed, jumped. “What was that?”

“Signal,” Ronan said, turning away. “Trackers have spotted something.”

Her fears returned. “What?”

Ronan looked out the tiny back window, scanning the alley. “Come on. Stay close to me.”

Ellison and Spike had stopped hammering and drilling and came into the office. Spike retained his hammer as he went to the back door and opened it.

Two Latino men, one about six foot, the other a head shorter, stood in front of a silver gray Lexus parked a yard from Elizabeth’s door. Both men wore dark suits on this late August day. They weren’t obviously armed, but the suit coats could hide anything. Both stood casually, alert but not hostile.

Spike went out first, then Ronan, with Elizabeth between Ronan and Ellison. As they emerged, three more Shifters entered the other end of the alley—Sean with his sword, a Shifter as tall as he who looked much like him, and an even taller Shifter male with his black hair buzzed short. The two human men saw the Shifters but didn’t change expression.

The taller of the men nodded at Elizabeth. “Elizabeth Chapman. I’m Pablo Marquez.”

Elizabeth had suspected as much. She said nothing.

“The incident with my brother has caused some problems,” Marquez said in a smooth voice. “He didn’t come here that night with my blessing. It was a stupid thing to do.”

Elizabeth still remained silent. She knew that a man like Marquez could twist anything she said into either capitulation or a threat, so it was best to stand quietly and let him talk.

“I’m taking care of Julio,” Marquez went on. “He knows how pissed off I am. But it leaves us with a little problem. He’s facing charges of armed robbery, and there are two witnesses. You and your Shifter.”

Ronan moved in front of Marquez and folded his arms. In spite of Marquez’s relative tallness, Ronan was twice his size.

Sean and the other two Shifters drifted toward them, but not in a clump. They spaced themselves out so the one with the black hair stayed at the opening of the alley, Sean stopped about halfway down, and the third man came to a stop right behind Marquez’s car.

“Your brother almost killed Elizabeth,” Ronan said. “That pisses me off too.”

Marquez looked up at Ronan’s nearly seven-foot height without fear. “You’re the Shifter who took him down?”

“I wasn’t out to kill him. I only meant to stop him.”

“I figured that,” Marquez said. “You’re a Shifter. If you’d wanted to kill him, Julio would be dead. But, see, he’s my brother. I don’t want him in prison. Not only would that be dangerous for him, it would be bad for business.”

Elizabeth understood his concern—there might be plenty in prison with a grudge against Marquez who would use his younger brother as an opportunistic target. But she only had so much sympathy.

“So, what are you saying?” she asked. “We can come to some sort of arrangement?”

“I want to make a deal, yes,” Marquez said. “Julio’s going to trial—he’s been released in my custody but he has a court date. Which he will keep. What I’m asking is for you not to show up. You and your sister close up shop and leave town, start over some other place. I’ll put the word out ahead that you’re not to be bothered. But you go, never come back to Austin, never talk to anyone about Julio and Pablo Marquez.”

“Leave?” Elizabeth started for him, but Ronan dodged in her way. His Collar emitted one spark. “I can’t leave,” Elizabeth said. “I worked my ass off for this store. I’m not moving my whole life because your little brother is out of control.”

“You haven’t heard the other half of my deal,” Marquez said, his hard voice breaking through hers. “You go and start again somewhere safe, or you have no life at all. Neither does your sister. I won’t bother trying to scare you or harass you, or any juvenile shit like that. You’re either alive in another city, or dead here. Nothing in between. I’ll give you three days to pack and shut down. Then you’re gone.”

Ronan leaned in to Marquez. “Here’s our counteroffer.
You
leave town, you let your brother go to prison for what he did, or
your
life will be a living hell.
We’ll
put word out ahead wherever you go that you shouldn’t be bothered, but you’ll be watched. You’re now on every Shifter’s shit list, which is someplace you don’t want to be.”

Marquez didn’t move. “You’re Shifters. You’re powerless. Shifters are executed for harming humans. You lay a finger on me, the whole bunch of you goes down. I don’t even have to ask for a hit. The cops will do it for me.”

“That’s our offer,” Ronan said. “If you want to get out of this alley alive, you’ll give us your answer.”

Marquez opened his coat to show that he had an automatic in his shoulder holster. “These sweeties will take you out quickly, leaving nothing but dead Shifters behind. You can’t move fast enough to dodge bullets, and your Collars mean you can’t attack me. So. I’ll leave you to make your decision, Ms. Chapman. I understand about family. For your sister’s sake, you’ll go.”

Elizabeth did not like the look of that weapon, but Ronan scarcely seemed to notice it. “Your answer,” he said.

Marquez’s hand drifted toward his gun, but—so swiftly Elizabeth didn’t see him move— the Shifter who resembled Sean was in front of Marquez, hand on Marquez’s wrist.

Marquez’s eyes widened as the Shifter put pressure on the wrist, and Elizabeth heard something crackle. Marquez’s man reached inside his coat, but Marquez shook his head, though his eyes were nearly bulging. The Shifter’s Collar didn’t so much as glint, and he said not a word.

Sean spoke without moving his position. “We’ll give you a day or two to think about it, lad. Then it’s best you go. We’ll make sure nothing happens to your brother inside. We know about family too.”

The Shifter kept his hold of Marquez’s wrist. Marquez looked up into his cold, cold eyes, and finally showed fear.

“Let him go, Dad,” Sean said.

The Shifter opened his hand and took a step back. He was very calm, every movement precise and practiced.

Marquez backed a step and cradled his wrist but he gave Elizabeth a cool stare. “You lost yourself a day,” he said. “Pack and go.”

The second man, who looked white about the mouth, opened the passenger side of the car and let in Marquez. Marquez didn’t look at the Shifters as the man went around to the driver’s seat, got in and started the Lexus, then slowly pulled forward. Ronan, Spike, Ellison, and the other Shifter moved so the car could pass, but they surrounded it to watch it go, hunters releasing their prey. Their choice. For now.

As soon as the car turned the corner onto the street, Sean joined them and said, “Nice one, Dad.”

Elizabeth rounded on them. “Nice one? Are you all insane? All he has to do is report that you threatened him. Criminal or not, you’re the ones who’ll pay—with your lives. Do me a favor, and
don’t help me!”

Elizabeth’s rage and fear had risen to a breaking point, and all she could do was turn her back on the Shifters, storm inside, and slam the door.

Ronan scented Elizabeth’s terror as she went, and vowed that Marquez would pay for every bad dream, every shiver of fear, and every tear he’d caused her.

Sean joined his father, whose eyes remained the light blue of his wildcat’s. “You scared him good, Dad,” Sean said. “But maybe put him on his guard? We don’t need a Shifter-human gang war.”

“We won’t have one.” Dylan Morrissey scanned the alley, aware that others could be watching, and started for the back door to Elizabeth’s store.

Ronan got ahead of him to walk inside first, but Elizabeth wasn’t in her office. Ronan heard the water running in the bathroom, and he left the others to approach her.

He’d lived with females long enough to know that if he knocked first, she’d tell him to go away and leave her alone, and he had no intention of doing that. Elizabeth hadn’t locked the door, however, and Ronan opened it to find a small bathroom decorated with rose trellis wallpaper and framed Victorian ads for soap and chocolates. The soft colors made the tiny room easy on the eyes and very feminine.

Elizabeth looked up at him through the reflection of the wooden framed mirror over the sink, her eyes red-rimmed, her face dripping.

“You okay?” Ronan asked.

A long time ago, he’d never had to worry about comforting crying females—crying anybody. But now he had to deal with Cherie with her PTSD, Rebecca’s PMS, and the terror dreams of the boys. He’d learned how to pet and hold until the shakes went away, how to gentle his voice to the merest rumble.

“No, I’m not okay,” Elizabeth said. “You can’t threaten Marquez like that. He’s right—he’ll have the cops down on you, or he’ll tell his boys with machine guns to wipe out all the Shifters. No one cares about Shifters.”

“That’s true,” Ronan said, leaning against the door frame. “No one, except Shifters. What do you plan to do, then? Leave town like he suggested?”

“No!” Elizabeth grabbed a fluffy towel and buried her face in it. When she emerged, her tears were gone. “No, I’m not letting him drive me out. I’ll call the cop who arrested Julio Marquez and tell her his brother is threatening me. Pablo Marquez will have a record—they can put a restraining order on him.”

“A restraining order will do nothing,” Dylan said from behind Ronan. “You need to let us take care of this.”

Elizabeth threw down the towel and pushed past Ronan to face Dylan. “Let you take care of it? What does that mean?” She looked up at the tall Shifter, meeting that white-blue stare without flinching.

Sean cleared his throat. “Ms. Chapman, let me introduce my dad, Dylan Morrissey.”

Elizabeth studied Dylan more closely, taking in the gray at his temples, his stern look that came with his years and experience. “Ah. I’ve heard about you.”

Dylan blinked, his eyes snapping back to human blue. Elizabeth’s
I’ve heard about you
spoke volumes. His mate, Glory, came into this store a lot, and Glory could be earthily frank. Dylan must be wondering what the hell kinds of things Glory had said.

“What I’ve heard is that you’re used to having your every order obeyed,” Elizabeth said, hands on hips. “But I’m not Shifter, and I don’t care. I’m keeping this store open. I’m grateful for your help, but I do not want you confronting Marquez. He’s dangerous, more dangerous than you are. I’ll find a solution. I haven’t survived this long by caving in to people like him.”

Sean and the other Shifters tensed, watching as Elizabeth, a puny human, stared down one of the top alphas in Shiftertown. Liam was leader now, yes, but Dylan was still plenty dominant.