Dark and Deadly: Eight Bad Boys of Paranormal Romance (2 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Ashley,Alyssa Day,Felicity Heaton,Erin Kellison,Laurie London,Erin Quinn,Bonnie Vanak,Caris Roane

BOOK: Dark and Deadly: Eight Bad Boys of Paranormal Romance
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“No kidding.” Ronan glanced at Elizabeth, whose lips were too bloodless. “Can you let her go home? She’s pretty shaken up.”

“After she gives me her statement. You too, Shifter. In fact, I want you coming in with us.”

She put away her little notebook and took out a pair of cuffs. They were big cuffs, and Ronan saw the markings that told him they had Fae magic in them, fashioned to contain Shifters.

“What are you doing?” Elizabeth asked, wide-eyed. “Ronan didn’t rob me. He helped me.”

“He’s a Shifter,” the woman said. “He hit a human, and the human’s going to the hospital. That’s assault, and for Shifters a capital crime. I have to arrest him.”
Rules are rules,
her flat eyes seemed to say.

“You mean that he hit a human who was about to kill me,” Elizabeth said heatedly. “If Ronan hadn’t been here, I’d be dead.”

The officer shrugged. “If you want to come down and plead his case to the judge, it’s your choice. But I have to take him.”

Ronan saw indecision flicker in Elizabeth Chapman’s eyes. This wasn’t her fight. She wanted to go home and forget about the robbery as best she could. Ronan wasn’t sure what human females did to make themselves feel better, but the cub, Cherie, who lived in his house, liked to take baths that lasted forever whenever she was stressed. Which was often, considering what she’d gone through.

Ronan’s fantasies went to Elizabeth in a bathtub, her curved body covered with suds, her black hair wet. He bet she looked cute with her hair all damp and spiky.

The cop clicked the cuffs onto Ronan’s wrists behind his back, and the pleasant vision dissolved as he felt the sting of Fae magic. Even the small bite of it ground through his nerves and tried to set off a spark from his Collar. Elizabeth looked concerned as he winced, but Ronan shook his head at her.

“Don’t worry about me, Lizzie-girl. But do me a favor. Find a lawyer called Kim Fraser—she’s mated to Liam Morrissey in Shiftertown, and they live next door to Glory. I know you know Glory—she comes in here all the time. Tell Kim what happened for me?”

Kim, a human, had set up a law office that specialized in helping Shifters. Because human laws governing Shifters were restrictive and complex, Shifters needed all the help they could get.

“All right?” Ronan repeated, looking hard at Elizabeth. “Tell her?”

Elizabeth pressed her slim hands together and held them a little under her chin. Human body language for
I don’t know what the right thing is to do here.

“You can call her if you don’t want to go to Shiftertown,” Ronan said. “Her card’s in my front pocket.”

Ronan’s hands were locked behind his back and staying there. Elizabeth took a step forward. The female cop didn’t say or do anything, just watched, ready to take down both of them if they tried anything stupid.

Elizabeth’s hair smelled good. So did the rest of her. Ronan scented Elizabeth’s residual fear from the robbery, overlaid with the warm goodness of her, and behind that, concern for someone else. Layers of scent that told him all about her.

He liked how she’d put the red streaks in her hair. Defiance—that’s what it meant. Elizabeth seemed like a good businesswoman, following the rules, but those little streaks said she could be bad if she wanted to be. Or maybe they were a reminder of a time when she hadn’t walked the straight and narrow. Ronan thought he wouldn’t mind a glimpse of the bad-ass Elizabeth.

Elizabeth dipped her fingers into Ronan’s front pocket. She did it quickly and competently, not touching Ronan at all as she plucked out Kim’s business card. The move was practiced, as though she’d gotten good at taking things out of people’s pockets.
Skill
was the word. Interesting.

“I’ll call her,” Elizabeth said, palming the card. “But I’m coming down to the station with you,” she said to the cop. “He helped me, and it’s not fair he’s getting arrested when some gang kid tried to kill me.”

The female cop shrugged. “Suit yourself. Come on, Shifter.”

Ronan winked as the cop took his arm in a practiced grip and shoved him out the door. “I like you, human woman,” he said to Elizabeth. “See you downtown.”

***

Elizabeth called Mabel, reassuring her sister that everything was all right, then reached Kim Fraser on the phone and told her what had happened.

She then drove her small pickup downtown, following the cops to the jail and courthouse. She found it ironic that she had to leave her truck in a crappy lot with a sign saying
Park at your own risk,
while the arrests for the night were taken safely around to the front door.

Inside the station, Elizabeth gave her official statement to the female cop, then was told to stay in the waiting room until someone came to take her to Ronan’s hearing. She hadn’t thought the hearing would be tonight, not this late, but apparently Shifter Division processed Shifters as swiftly as possible.

So Elizabeth waited. Around her, arrests for the night were brought in, anything from indecent exposure to grand theft auto to assault with a deadly weapon. This was the heart of Texas, in a well-populated county, and the arrestees ranged from men with shaggy hair, baseball caps, and strong South Texas accents; to Spanish-speaking kids who glared in fearful defiance; to brightly dressed prostitutes with hair of every shade and shorts cut high up their butts.

Elizabeth had never been in this particular police station, but they all gave her the creeps. The smell was the same—burned coffee, body odor, and floor cleaner overlaid with stale cigarette smoke. Smoking was no longer permitted inside, but the smoke clung to the clothes of people who went in and out.

Never again, she’d vowed. For Mabel’s sake. Elizabeth had half-feared that the female cop would run a check on Elizabeth’s name, but then, even if she had, the woman would have found nothing. Elizabeth Chapman had no criminal record, and no connection to anyone with a criminal record. Elizabeth had made sure of that.

After a long time, a tall black bailiff stopped in front of Elizabeth and said in a booming voice, “Ms. Chapman? Come with me.”

Elizabeth sprang up and followed the man, half-running to keep up with his long-legged stride. “Where are we going?”

“The Shifter’s hearing,” was all he would say.

The bailiff led Elizabeth through a door and down a hall that was eerily deserted. At the end of this, he unbolted and unlocked a steel door that had to be a foot thick. He took Elizabeth into a short hall, maybe five feet in length, which had no other door but the one at its far end.

Why was Elizabeth reminded of zoo cages? The kind with two doors and a space in between, where an animal could be trapped if it tried to escape. The bailiff unlocked the second door, also of foot-thick steel, and ushered Elizabeth into a long, narrow courtroom.

It was a courtroom unlike any Elizabeth had seen, and unfortunately she’d seen quite a few during her colorful adolescence. The judge’s bench, at the far end, was raised six feet off the floor and caged in front by floor-to-ceiling iron bars. A woman in judge’s robes was just coming through a door right behind the bench. Bench, door, and judge were unreachable by anyone on the courtroom floor.

Ronan sat in a large metal chair below the bench, at a right angle to the rest of the room. His hands were now shackled in front of him; a chain between the shackles hooked them to a ring on the heavy chair, which in turn was bolted to the floor.

The courtroom was unadorned, no paneling on the walls, no heavy wooden tables or carved benches, just a generic linoleum floor, white walls, and two plain metal benches in the front of the room. A nervous man in a suit, probably the prosecutor, occupied the right bench. A man and woman sat together on the bench on the left.

The woman was human, with short dark hair, a business jacket and skirt, and a briefcase. Her buttoned-up look screamed lawyer, though she wore sandals on bare feet instead of hose and shoes.

The man next to her was a Shifter, no doubt about it. He had dark hair, eyes of incredible blue, and a Collar around his neck. He lounged on the bench, watching everyone in the room, including the judge, with an air of command.

Most people believed that Shifters posed a threat to humans, and looking at this man, Elizabeth finally understood why. Ronan was huge and full of muscle, but this Shifter, while nowhere near as big as Ronan, exuded a strength of presence that spoke of power. No matter that he wore a Collar, he could be deadly, and he wanted everyone around him to remember that.

Ronan saw Elizabeth and lifted his shackled hands in greeting. He looked the calmest of anyone in the room, no matter that they were treating him like a dangerous animal.

Granted, Elizabeth had seen Ronan as a big, scary bear, and even now, with his buzzed hair, glittering eyes, and muscles bulging out the
Red-Hot Lover
T-shirt, he still looked frightening. But he gave her a nod—in thanks, she guessed, for calling Kim and then showing up herself.

The tall bailiff locked the door, the clang of the keys loud. The judge hammered once with her gavel. “Counsels approach the bench.”

That was it. No one else apparently would show up to this hearing, no court stenographer, no other witnesses. Maybe the session was being recorded, but what did Elizabeth know? Perhaps records weren’t kept of Shifter hearings.

As Kim rose with the prosecutor and walked confidently toward the judge, the bailiff said to Elizabeth, “Sit over there.”

He pointed to the seat next to Kim’s Shifter. The Shifter sat up from his lounging position, smiled, and patted the bench next to him. The smile was charming, but it was also predatory, and his eyes were watching, watching. Ronan caught Elizabeth’s worried look and sent her another nod.

Elizabeth went to the bench. The Shifter rose, though both judge and bailiff scowled at him, and stuck out his hand. “I’m Liam Morrissey,” he said. “You’re Elizabeth?”

“Elizabeth Chapman. I called your wife.”

“She’s my mate.” Liam closed his right hand around Elizabeth’s and then laid his left hand on top of it, sandwiching her fingers in a cushion of warmth. Liam Morrissey was the leader of the Austin Shiftertown, Elizabeth knew. He and his wife—no,
mate
—Kim, were the liaisons between Shifters and humans. “No worries, lass,” Liam said. “You answer the judge’s questions and tell the truth. Kim will take care of the rest.”

The pressure of his hands on hers and the confident look in his eyes, together with the Irish lilt to his voice, were soothing and reassuring. Elizabeth found herself nodding, wanting to promise she’d do her best.

Ronan said from across the room, “You can let go of her now, Liam.”

Liam’s smile widened but he released Elizabeth. “I’m thinking you’re growing a mite possessive, my friend,” he said to Ronan.

“I’m thinking she’s had a bad night,” Ronan growled. “That and I can break your head with one hand.”

“Shut it, Bear. I’m mate-bonded. You have no competition from me.”

The judge pounded with her gavel. “The defendant will stay in order,” she said sharply. Both Ronan and Liam went quiet but neither looked contrite.

The Shifters are in charge here,
Elizabeth realized.
Not the judge, not the bailiff, not the prosecutor. Liam and Ronan might be inside the cage, but they’ve taken it over.

“The defendant will approach,” the judge said.

The bailiff unlocked Ronan’s shackles from the chair, helped him stand, and led him forward. Kim came to Ronan’s side, not looking worried, though the prosecutor kept his eyes on his notes as Ronan hulked next to him.

“The charge is assault with intent to kill a human,” the judge said. She had dark hair going to gray, a face like a squashed prune, and a flat voice. “How does the defendant plead?”

“He pleads mitigating circumstances,” Kim said. “And intent to kill is not on the arrest sheet. The human in question was armed with a loaded nine-millimeter pistol. My client was defending the owner of the store the human man had come to rob and was shot by the human in the process.”

The judge eyed Kim in dislike. “I asked for the plea, not the defense. You’ll have the chance to speak in a moment. Prosecution?”

The prosecutor finally looked up from his file folder. “The victim, Julio Marquez, is at the hospital being treated for claw wounds. Mr. Marquez describes being attacked by a bear in Ms. Chapman’s shop on South Congress. In fear for his life, Mr. Marquez shot but missed. The bear then struck Mr. Marquez again, rendering him unconscious. According to Mr. Marquez, he entered the store on a dare by his friends and waved around his gun. The bear attacked from the back of the store. Mr. Marquez did not see him before that.”

Elizabeth jumped to her feet. “That’s not what happened!” A dare by his friends? No way in hell. Elizabeth had looked into the cold, hard eyes of the kid, which had held an anger too old for his age. She’d recognized that anger. Julio Marquez was a dangerous young man.

The judge banged her gavel. “Ms. Chapman, sit down, or you will be fined for contempt.”

The prosecutor leafed through his file. “Mr. Marquez’s statement and Ms. Chapman’s are not exactly the same, but both agree that the bear attacked Mr. Marquez.”

“Because Marquez was forcing me into my office at gunpoint!” Elizabeth cried.

Another steely glare from the judge. “You will be called to give your version of events in due time, Ms. Chapman. Sit
down
.”

“Best sit down, love,” Liam whispered. “Kim will take care of it.”

He sounded confident. Elizabeth sank to the bench, and Liam nodded at her.
Good girl.
Ronan sent her another reassuring look over his shoulder.

Even Kim seemed unperturbed. “The witness is understandably stressed, Your Honor,” she said. “It’s late, and she’s had a bad experience.”

The judge really didn’t like Kim Fraser. For defending a Shifter? Elizabeth wondered. Or for marrying one?

The prosecutor broke in. “Maybe Ms. Chapman should be allowed to give her evidence so she can go home.”

The judge’s face softened as she listened to the prosecutor. The man was attractive in a slick sort of way . . .
what a witch.

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