Dark and Deadly: Eight Bad Boys of Paranormal Romance (19 page)

Ronan roared in fury, his Collar sparking, as he swung to face Pablo Marquez, standing calmly by, a black nine-millimeter in his left hand, right wrist in a bandage.

“That was my kill,” Ronan snarled. “Mine as mate.”

Pablo tucked his gun into the holster under his coat. “No, my friend.
I
am a cold-blooded killer.
You
are not.”

Ronan’s mate-frenzied bloodlust made him want to rip into Pablo for interfering with his vengeance, but pain from his Collar, the heady feeling of the mate bond, and Ronan’s own common sense stopped him. Better still was Elizabeth running into him, throwing her arms around him, no matter how bloody he was, and pulling him close. Distractedly he saw Pablo relieve her of the big pistol she seemed to have acquired, but he decided to worry about that detail later.

His Collar stopped sparking and winked out.

“Ronan, you stupid, stupid . . .” Elizabeth’s words gave out, and she simply hung onto him.

Ronan gathered her against him. He didn’t care that he was naked, her enemy dead at her feet, with other Shifters and a human looking on. This was his moment with Elizabeth, when the mate bond in him connected to the mate of his heart.

“I love you, Ronan,” she was sobbing.

Ronan kissed her hair, nuzzling the red streaks in it that he adored. “Love you, Lizzie-girl,” he said. “My mate.”

***

Pablo also offered to dispose of the body. He gave Elizabeth an amused look as he checked over the Sig Elizabeth had lifted from Zach’s holster in her struggle with him. “Remind me not to let you get close to me,” he said as he unloaded the weapon and handed it to one of his seconds. “You have a gift. If you ever need a job . . .”

“No,” Elizabeth said decidedly, and let Ronan lead her from the grisly scene. Julio Marquez was gone—who knew where, and Elizabeth didn’t want to ask. She had no doubt that Pablo would gleefully claim that Zach Casey’s territory was now his. He was not the kind of man who did favors without thought of personal gain.

By the time they reached the barn again, Ronan was staggering, and he collapsed at the same time Ellison broke out of the crowd with a Shifter medic behind him.

Ronan was in incredible pain, Elizabeth saw. He’d lost a lot of blood, his body torn where the wolf had clawed and bitten him, his neck bruised and blackened from the Collar’s abuse. He needed a hospital, but the Shifters weren’t about to take him there.

The medic cleaned the wounds and then ordered Ronan to change back into a bear, a form in which he’d have more strength for healing. Ronan groaned as he shifted, and three Shifters had to help him climb into the bed of Ellison’s pickup. Ronan looked for Elizabeth, his gaze betraying so much pain that she climbed into the truck with him.

Ellison and Spike lifted a blue tarp over the pickup’s bed and began to tie it down.

“Hey!” Elizabeth called. “Suffocate us, why don’t you?”

Ellison pulled a rope tight. “All loads in Austin have to be tarped, and he qualifies as a load. Besides, I don’t want cops wondering why I’m driving around with an injured Kodiak in the back of my truck.”

Elizabeth understood his point. They positioned the tarp so that Elizabeth and Ronan had plenty of airflow, their skill telling her they’d done this before.

The tented truck bed was warm in the night, Elizabeth cuddling against her bear. Elizabeth held on to Ronan as the pickup bumped down the long dirt track, Ronan grunting in pain every time the truck hit a rut on the washboard road.

Elizabeth held Ronan close and buried her face in his fur. He smelled of blood but also of warmth and himself. She’d fallen hard in love with him, but that was not so surprising, she thought as she stroked him. Ronan had helped her at every turn and never asked anything of her. He never did, from anyone.

She was quietly crying by the time Ellison pulled up at Ronan’s house and shut off the engine. Rebecca came running out as Ellison untied the tarp, Cherie, Mabel, and Olaf following. Mabel pulled Elizabeth into an embrace while Rebecca helped Spike and Ellison get Ronan out of the truck. Rebecca instructed them to put him in the Den—there was a big bed there, she said, and they wouldn’t have to try to get him upstairs.

Ronan shifted back to human as he came to his feet. He tried to stagger inside on his own, but Ellison and Spike ended up half-dragging him between them.

Ronan groaned as he hit the bed. His face was wan from too much blood loss, the bite and claw marks again oozing blood. His breathing was shallow, his pulse too rapid.

Elizabeth and Rebecca covered him, and Rebecca brought out bandages and antiseptic. But who knew what was going on internally, or what damage the shocks from the Collar had done?

“He needs a hospital,” Elizabeth said.

Rebecca shook her head. “The human medical world still hasn’t figured out Shifters. They might kill him trying the wrong thing.”

“We have to do
something
. . .”

Elizabeth broke off as the door darkened and Sean Morrissey strode in, the Sword of the Guardian on his back. Both Rebecca and Cherie jumped to their feet, eyeing Sean with similar looks of terror.

“No, Sean, not yet,” Rebecca said, pleading. “We don’t need the sword yet.”

“I know that, lass,” Sean said. “But you do need my mate.”

Andrea stepped inside, her pregnancy evident behind her loose, light shirt. Without a word, Andrea came to Elizabeth, gave her a brief hug, and then sat on the bed next to Ronan. In silence, she peeled back the sheet, laid her hands on Ronan’s bare chest, bowed her head, and closed her eyes.

She stayed in that position for a time, unmoving except for her brows drawing together in concentration. Cherie buried her face in Rebecca’s shoulder. Mabel, next to Elizabeth, squeezed her hand. Olaf said, in his loud, child’s voice, “Ronan will die?”

“No, lad,” Sean said. “Not tonight.”

The sword on Sean’s back emitted a soft
ting
. Elizabeth’s gaze went to it, but the others in the room didn’t seem to notice. Maybe it was supposed to do that.

Andrea drew a long breath. Then, to Elizabeth’s amazement, the big cuts on Ronan’s throat started to close. As she watched, the wounds narrowed, dried, and fused, leaving long scabs in place of the chewed and serrated flesh.

The bruises and cuts on Ronan’s face and around his Collar started to fade, and Ronan’s breathing eased. After a long time, he let out a sigh and opened his eyes.

He looked around at the people who encircled his bed—his family, Elizabeth and Mabel, Sean and Andrea, Spike and Ellison—and he flinched. “Oh, this is embarrassing.”

“Better embarrassed than dead,” Andrea said, patting his arm. “Stop doing this, Ronan. I’m getting tired of patching you up.” She started to rise, then winced and put her hand on her distended abdomen.

Sean was at her side. “All right, love?”

“Fine.” Andrea rubbed her belly. “There’s a lot of kicking going on down there. I think she wanted to help me and was mad that she couldn’t.”

“Oh, can I feel?” Mabel asked brightly. “I love babies.”

Andrea let Mabel place her hands on her stomach, while Sean looked on, both fond and protective.

“Hey, what about me?” Ronan asked. “I’m the fallen hero, here.”

“
You
are going to be fine,” Andrea said. “You’re good inside; the wounds are only surface ones, thanks to your thick bear fur. You’ll have one hell of a hangover, but that’s your own fault for agreeing to fight a feral.”

“A fight I won, woman. You should have seen the other guy. What happened to him, by the way, Sean?”

“He’s with Dad,” Sean said. “For now. Dad will take him to Liam for debriefing in the morning.”

“Poor bastard,” Ronan said. “Better him than me.”

Everyone started talking, weighing in with opinions about the fight or the feral, or asking for details about it. Elizabeth strode into the middle of the group.

“Out. Everybody, out. Ronan needs to rest.”

Instead of arguing, they obeyed, to her surprise—instantly, quietly, and quickly. Mabel was the last to go. She paused to hug Elizabeth.

“Congratulations, you two. I knew you were up to nookie in here last night. I’ll have a Shifter for a brother-in-law. That is so cool.”

Another squeeze, a wave to Ronan, and Mabel banged out the door.

Elizabeth came to the bed. She started to sit at Ronan’s side, then gave in to her emotions and lay down next to him, wanting his arms around her.

“News travels fast,” she said. “Mabel wasn’t at the fight—at least, she’d better not have been. How does she know what happened with the mate-claim?”

“All of Shiftertown knows, love.” Ronan ran a bandaged hand through her hair. “Half of them heard you stand up and declare that you accepted me, and you’d better bet half of
them
got on their cell phones right away to spread the word. Matings are a big deal around here. Shifters love them, and they love to gossip. ’Course, now Liam knows everything too. He’s not going to let me hear the end of it.”

“Tell him to get in line.” Elizabeth lost the rigidity that had been holding her up all night. “You almost died tonight. Damn you, Ronan. And don’t tell me everything’s all right, because you won. You almost
didn’t
win.”

Ronan kissed her hair. “I won because of you, Lizzie-girl. Because the mate bond wouldn’t let me die.”

“Mate bond . . .”

Ronan twined his fingers through hers and brought their joined hands to his heart. “I feel it right here. It means that you and I belong together, that we have a bond no one can break. I hope, in time, that you feel it too.”

He sounded so quietly hopeful that tears stung Elizabeth’s eyes. “I do feel it, Ronan. I love you. I’ve never felt like this about anyone before. You’re funny and warmhearted and strong and brave and generous, and I love
you
. And wonder of wonders, you love me back.”

“You bet I love you back.” Ronan’s eyes darkened. “You rescued me, Elizabeth.”

“No, you did a lot of saving my butt. Andrea is the one who healed you . . . how did she do that?”

“Fae magic.” Ronan said it offhand, as though Fae magic was a common thing to find lying around. “Andrea’s half Fae, and the magic manifested in her as a healing gift. Lucky for us. But that’s not what I meant.”

Elizabeth raised herself on one elbow. “You’ve done so much for me. All the Shifters have. I’ve done so little in return.”

“No,” Ronan said. “I’ve been alone a long time, Lizzie-girl. Even living here with Rebecca and taking in the cubs—I’ve still been alone.” He released her hand and brushed the backs of his fingers over her cheek. “I’m not alone anymore.”

Elizabeth pressed a feather-light kiss to his lips, her heart full. “Neither am I.”

Ronan slid his hand to the back of her neck, rising into the kiss. They explored and touched for a little time, in the newfound wonder of feeling.

“You know,” Ronan said, smoothing her hair. “I think I’m feeling a
lot
better.”

His sudden, wicked smile made Elizabeth’s blood heat. She ran her hand down the blankets until she found a very large bulge under them. “I can see that.”

“Mmm, did you lock the door behind my nosy friends?”

“I did.”

Ronan chuckled as he pushed back the covers and rolled his warm weight over her. “I knew I picked the right woman.”

“You did.” Elizabeth smiled into his kiss and wrapped her arms around his broad body. She was safe and warm beneath him, not ready to go anywhere for a long time. She licked his ear and then nibbled it.

“My bodyguard,” she whispered. “My
mate
.”

The End

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Bodyguard
and I hope you enjoyed it.

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A girl walks into a bar . . .

No
.
A human girl walks into a Shifter bar . . .

The bar was empty, not yet open to customers. It looked normal—windowless walls painted black, rows of glass bottles, the smell of beer and stale air. But it wasn’t normal, standing on the edge of Shiftertown like it did.

Kim told herself she had nothing to be afraid of.
They’re tamed. Collared. They can’t hurt you.

“You the lawyer?” a man washing glasses asked her. He was human, not Shifter. No strange, slitted pupils, no Collar to control his aggression, no air of menace. When Kim nodded, he gestured with his cloth to a door at the end of the bar. “Knock him dead, sweetheart.”

“I’ll try to keep him alive.” Kim pivoted and stalked away, feeling his gaze on her back.

She knocked on the door marked “Private,” and a man on the other side growled, “Come.”

I just need to talk to him. Then I’m done, on my way home.
A trickle of moisture rolled between Kim’s shoulder blades as she made herself open the door and walk inside.

A man leaned back in a chair behind a messy desk, a sheaf of papers in his hands. His booted feet were propped on the desk, his long legs a feast of blue jeans over muscle. He was a Shifter all right—thin black and silver Collar against his throat, hard, honed body, midnight-black hair, definite air of menace. When Kim entered, he stood, setting the papers aside.

He rose to a height of well over six feet and gazed at Kim with eyes blue like the morning sky. His body wasn’t only honed, it was hot—big chest, wide shoulders, tight abs, firm biceps against a form-fitting black T-shirt.