A Shifter's Bodyguard (Pale Moonlight Book 5)

by Marie Johnston

  So. Good.

  She was slick and offered no resistance. He moved in and out, his thrusts growing stronger until his back bowed and he clenched his teeth.

  Heat filled her as he came. She whispered his name and stroked his face.

  Before tonight, she hadn’t been interested in sex and hadn’t been sure she ever would be. But tonight that doubt had been put to rest. She liked sex. She liked sex with Harrison.

  Chapter 13

  “Are you sure there isn’t something you’d like to tell me?”

  Harrison glared at Malcolm over the torn-up floor. It had been three days since the attack. Demke had arranged a delivery of luxury vinyl plank for Sylva’s new floor. They didn’t dare leave the place again, but delivery worked.

  Demke had vetted the driver on his end. Malcolm had waited up the road and run alongside the delivery truck in the trees, using his senses to ensure it was the original driver and not one of the brothers.

  Harrison glanced at the stairs. Sylva was downstairs, ripping up pickle-smelling carpet. “I don’t have to tell you everything.”

  “Since when?” Malcolm sat back on his heels and wiped his brow. Harrison regretted waking up early to help with the remodel efforts before it was time for his shift. Malcolm was staying up late so they could overlap for a few hours and get shit done. “You told me when you met Gloria. You told me that you two had decided to wait until your mating night. And you told me about her insecurity. After that,” he shrugged, “there’s been nothing to tell.”

  “Why bother when you obviously know?” He ripped up another plank, aiming his aggression at the flooring and not Malcolm.

  Malcolm snorted. “Believe me, I can tell you two are fucking. It’s hard to sleep through the medicine cabinet rattling as you rail her on the counter.”

  Harrison’s cheeks burned, but not with embarrassment. The image of Sylva with her ass planted on the counter, her head tipped back, biting her lip to keep quiet, and her legs spread wide as he pounded into her, was enough to get him hot all over again. “Okay. So we’re sleeping together.”

  “That’s what I want to know.” Malcolm leaned close, speaking low enough for only him to hear. “You’re not sleeping together. It’s business as usual until pants drop. Then it’s back to pretending nothing’s happening.”

  Leave it to Malcolm to cut to the heart of what was going on—and to know that it bothered him.

  He should’ve said something, but it gave Malcolm the opening to keep going. “Let’s not mention that she’s the only one you’ve been with, you know, by yourself. Or that you’re going back over and over again.” He shook his head and yanked another board up. “Unless this counts as one long one-night stand, we both know that we don’t re-tap the same well for very specific reasons.”

  Harrison tightened his grip on his plank of wood. “She wants to explore, all right?”

  “I get that.” Malcolm turned toward him, one knee on the subfloor and one arm draped over the bend of his other knee. “But does she realize what it’s doing to you?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “I won’t bother to argue that you’re not. Have you told her you never slept with Gloria? Or that you haven’t ever done more than casual and superficial?”

  “Our sex isn’t about me.”

  “The fuck it’s not.” Malcolm’s voice was still a whisper, but barely. He clenched his jaw once before he kept going in a quieter tone. “She’s not casual and superficial to you and she needs to know that.”

  Harrison crawled closer and gave his brother his most determined look. “She didn’t have a choice before. She does now and she chose me—for a specific reason. I’m not guilting her into more.”

  “I think you’re underestimating her feelings and yours.”

  “What feelings?” he hissed. “She doesn’t have enough experience to know what she wants. When it comes to sex, she can learn that from me. When it comes to relationships, it’ll have to be from someone else.” His chest constricted as soon as he said it. A dull throb started in his fangs. If that imaginary male Sylva could practice romance with were outside, Harrison would need Malcolm to hold him back.

  Malcolm studied him for too damn long. Harrison went back to ripping up the floor. Remodeling had come at the perfect time. It was an excellent way to funnel the restless energy that had filled him since that first time with Sylva.

  He couldn’t run. And the fact that he wanted nothing more than to lose himself in the woods for months while he figured out the mess in his head filled him with shame. He might’ve had a good reason to do just that before, when he was discovering romance and love, but it had been the worst thing he could’ve done.

  Malcolm didn’t push the subject. They got the rest of the entryway torn up. As they were hauling boxes of plank inside, a sound caught their attention at the same time. Both their heads swiveled toward the road.

  Someone was coming. A pickup, but older than Malcolm’s. It ran rough, like it left a cloud of dark exhaust behind it. The speed it traveled was faster than Malcolm ever drove. There wasn’t time to go inside and warn Sylva. Who and how many were unknown and Sylva didn’t make rash decisions. She’d stay where it was safe. He’d wait out here with Malcolm.

  The pickup rattled into the yard, an old beater that probably hadn’t seen an oil change since the turn of the century.

  Two shifters were inside, a male and a female. They didn’t look much older than him, but their eyes said they were over a century old. Maybe two. They’d seen things and life hadn’t been easy.

  The guy killed the engine and got out. His bow-legged walk went with his overall grizzled look. He wore a plaid button-up top that was as old as the pickup and worn blue jeans. Piercing blue eyes gauged both him and his twin as he brushed the mop of dark hair off his face.

  The female slipped out of the truck, much meeker than her companion. Her dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail and her hazel eyes were a swirl of brown and green. She was also dressed in a simple red plaid shirt and jeans, though cared for better than the male’s.

  The male glared at each of them. “Who the hell are you two?” Hostility rolled off him, whereas the female regarded each of them separately until her speculative gaze settled on him and she tilted her head.

  “We’re the ones who need to be asking that question,” Malcolm said, a box of plank still in his arms. Harrison planned to use his as a weapon or toss it aside if this male caused trouble. “Who are you?”

  Red flushed the male’s face. “I don’t need to answer. You both can take whatever you’re doing here and leave.”

  Harrison didn’t move and neither did Malcolm. Like they always did, Malcolm took charge and Harrison stood next to him as proof that whatever Malcolm ordered would get carried out without question. “You need to tell me who you are or get the fuck out of here and never come back.”

  The male blustered and stepped forward.

  “Louis.” The female’s voice was full of censure. They were mates. He could smell the connection between them.

  The warning glare Louis shot her made Harrison’s hands curl into fists around his box. He pictured smashing it into the male’s face. The guy didn’t respect his mate and she clearly was the sensible one.

  “Where’s Sylva?” Louis demanded.

  “Why are you asking?” Malcolm calmly countered.

  “Look here.” Louis stomped forward. He was at least four inches shorter than them, barely hitting six feet. Unusual for males of their kind, but not unheard of.

  Harrison tensed, prepared to protect Malcolm as his brother set his box on the ground and changed his stance in case Louis tried anything.

  Louis stopped five feet in front of them. “Go get Sylva and stay out of my business.”

  “Now how can I stay out of your business and get her at the same time?”

  Harrison wanted to roll his eyes. This was Malcolm’s favorite part, egging his adversaries on. Harrison would rather fight and get it over with. />
  “Louis, maybe we should’ve called first.” The female’s reasoning didn’t go over well with her mate.

  “Shut up, Marg.”

  Harrison growled and didn’t bother holding it back.

  Louis narrowed his eyes on him. “You got something to say, son?”

  “I’m not your son,” he snarled. Why’d he bother replying?

  “If you were, you’d learn some respect.”

  Who the fuck was this male that thought he could get his way by force?

  The front door to the house creaked open and Sylva’s voice cut through the tension. “Father?”

  How quickly she’d regressed. One look at Father glowering at Harrison and she’d been transported to her nineteen-year-old self, afraid to speak up, timid, and programmed to listen to those bigger and louder than her.

  She was Sylva of the TriSpecies Synod. No more cowering.

  She went down the three porch steps like she was the queen of England addressing a crowd. “What are you doing here?”

  Father blinked at the hard edge to her voice. He should be shocked. During her time with Roman, he’d been her worst source of support. She’d cried and begged for him to find a way out for her and he’d chastised her.

  Enough, child. If they hear you, we could all suffer. Be a good mate and he won’t find fault with you.

  And Mother. Sylva hadn’t seen her since… That reason was better. No one knew her mother had helped her. At the time, she’d been so wrapped up in her own drama that she hadn’t stopped to think about why Mother would bring up the idea of killing Roman.

  Was Father just as bad?

  Dismay stalled her footsteps. She’d been severely disappointed in Father for how he’d supported her mating, but to think that he could be as bad as one of them…

  “Sylva.” Mother’s strangled cry cut through the tension and she propelled herself closer.

  Harrison stepped into Mother’s path and looked over his shoulder at her. Mother pulled up short, fear making her eyes glisten. Father curled his hands into fists, ready to defend his mate.

  “It’s all right.” Sylva’s voice cracked.

  Mother rushed around Harrison and threw her arms out. Sylva folded herself into the embrace.

  “I missed you,” she whispered. Growing up, they’d sought refuge in each other, daring to voice their opinions and criticize those in charge when no one else could hear.

  Mother’s shoulders shook and her tears scented the air. There was fear in them, and anxiety.

  When they broke apart, she met Father’s stern gaze. He looked so much older than she remembered. Gray peppered his hair and his shoulders were stooped like he carried the weight of the world.

  “Father,” she said coolly. Their relationship had changed when she’d learned her true mate was part of the leading clan of their colony. Giggles and games had been replaced with lectures about how a proper mate acted.

  “Sylva.” He no longer called her Bunny either, and he was the one who’d coined the nickname.

  She didn’t have to be a genius to read his expression and figure out why they’d come. “Did Grandma Raymore send you?”

  “They just want justice.” He didn’t sound like he agreed with them. But he was here supporting them and not her.

  “What happened was justice and what they’re doing is illegal.” She forced herself to stand her ground under Father’s censuring stare and not run to Harrison’s side. “When they’re caught, they will be imprisoned.”

  Father’s eyes widened. “You’re a fool if you think—”

  A growl cut through his words. Harrison planted himself between her and Father.

  She was so tired of wanting more from her parents, only to be left alone. “What am I a fool to think? Just in case I haven’t learned to think for myself in the last few years, tell me.”

  Mother laid a hand on her arm. “He’s worried, Bunny. We both are.”

  She looked from Mother to Father. Enough of this. They weren’t here for her, they were here for them. Smoothly stepping away from Mother, she said. “Thank you for the warning. You may go now.”

  Mother’s hand dropped to her side. “Sylva—”

  Father took a step toward her. “You can’t ignore this—”

  She spoke over them both. “I’d invite you to stay, but my house is undergoing a remodel and we’re short a room.” They couldn’t stay in her pissed-in room. She had her pride and she couldn’t show her parents weakness. She turned to go back up the porch stairs. “There’s probably a room at an inn in town.”

  Going into the house, she went straight for the bathroom. It was the first time she’d seen Mother since that night. And they were here to talk her into going back home. So she could what? Either be killed outright or mated off to someone else of Grandma Raymore’s choosing?

  If that happened, would Mother be there to pull the trigger again?

  She’d stood up to them and it made her sick. She brushed at tears streaking down her face. The guys couldn’t see her like this. They’d been working so hard with her and here she was crying over her parents’ visit.

  Her hands trembled as she ran the bath. Over the running water, the faint sound of an engine started and then faded into the night. They had left.

  Heavy footsteps came through the entry, and then methodical sounds and murmuring. Someone went downstairs. Probably Malcolm going to bed for the night. Only Harrison would be out there.

  She sank into the water, her skin turning red from the heat. A long soak while she gathered herself would help. It would be the first night since she and Harrison had started having sex that they wouldn’t do anything. She desperately wanted to lose herself in his arms. But tonight, she needed to be alone with her thoughts, with her fears that she’d lost her parents to Four Claws’ warped ideals.

  Mother had risked everything to free her from Roman, and the first thing Sylva did upon seeing them, after years of being on the Synod and days of self-defense lessons, was to chicken out instead of returning to Four Claws where this had all started.

  She should be proud she’d stood up to them, but instead, it felt like she was hiding behind her words like she was hiding in this bathroom.

  Chapter 14

  The night before had been quiet. Sylva had stayed in the bathroom for hours and then ghosted into the bedroom when he wasn’t inside.

  Harrison stared at the ceiling. His phone had buzzed with a message from Jonathon. No sign of Sylva’s parents and none of them thought that was a good thing. Why come all the way down, only to talk to Sylva and shrug it off when she told them she wasn’t backing down from the Raymores?

  Why indeed.

  Malcolm was on duty and tearing away at the floor. He was probably on the living room by now, and being on the noisy side was his way of telling his twin to get the hell out of bed. This thing with Louis and Marg was bothering him, too, otherwise Harrison would still be sleeping and the living room floor would still be waiting.

  He blew out a breath and swung his legs down. His feet hit cold floor. Sylva had ripped out all the carpet in the basement already. To be fair, it had been old and sorely in need of an upgrade. The reason she’d had to change it out still raised his blood pressure.

  Sylva.

  How quickly he’d gone from detached when it came to females to torn up inside that Sylva hadn’t come to him for anything. Not even sex. Her parents’ arrival had bothered her and she’d shunned him.

  He hadn’t expected sex. He wasn’t that inept when it came to relationships, but he was astute enough to know that if he and Sylva were in a relationship, she would’ve said something to him. Hell, she would’ve said good night. Or good morning. But she’d avoided him.

  So much for even being friends.

  Time to quit wondering what was going on with her and get to work. Prying hardwood up should work the angst out of him. He stepped into his jeans and grabbed a black T-shirt, giving it a sniff. Maybe another T-shirt. That one smelled like her.r />
  He sifted through his clothing. They all smelled like her. He shrugged into one of Malcolm’s navy-blue shirts and gathered up his clothing to wash.

  After starting a load of laundry, he went upstairs.

  “Sleeping Beauty awakens.” On his knees, his back to Harrison, Malcolm was working up another plank in the middle of the living room.

  “Were you afraid you’d get all this done and accidentally break a sweat?”

  “Ha ha, jackass. There’s a shitload of plank outside and I didn’t want to haul it all in. It’s ninety degrees out with almost as much humidity.”

  Or…he wanted to talk, and going downstairs to do it would signal to Sylva that they were talking about her. Hopefully the sounds of them tearing up ruined planks would be enough cover for their conversation instead.

  He picked up the tool belt Malcolm had loaded for him and dropped to his knees beside his brother.

  “I got Jonathon’s message.”

  Malcolm whispered only loud enough for him to hear. “We should find out what’s really going on with her parents. I notified Demke as soon as they left, and he’s asked the local hotels to call if anyone fitting their description checks in. Synod business, right? ”

  “You don’t think they reported back to the brothers and took off back to Four Claws?” Harrison said it as he yanked up a plank. They’d given Sylva’s parents plenty of time to settle into the next phase of whatever the hell they were here for, but it didn’t seem they’d settled anywhere.

  “I don’t think they’re pro Raymore. I think they were told to come here and talk to their daughter or else.”

  “Then they can head home and never speak to her again.” If they’d rather send their daughter to a family that wanted to harm her, then good riddance. They didn’t have to be pro Raymore, but they were here, doing the family’s bidding.

  “Your attachment to her is clouding your senses.” Malcolm slipped his gloves off and tossed them on the floor. He swiveled to face him. “They were terrified for her.”