To Shackle a Shrew (Southern Sanctuary Book 7)

by Jane Cousins

  “Don’t you Doc me, unless you’re offering to pick up a spatula you only get to stand there and look disapproving, no more comments or I’m kicking you out.”

  “Doc-”

  “Rivers and Lakes.” Devon’s brusque voice interrupted them. “Will you shut up and just let your wife tend to the man’s ass already.”

  Drum let out another growl.

  Liam couldn’t keep silent any longer, the pain and discomfort too much. “Seriously dude, my ass is on fire, I don’t even care if you do it, just please, by the Trident, someone coat my ass with that blue crap.”

  Devon stepped forward, releasing a put upon sigh. “Give it here, I’ll do it.”

  Liam could have wept in gratitude as the pain in his butt finally began to recede. Instantly he felt about a hundred times better now that his back, butt and for some reason his right leg were pain free. “Bow, chika, bow, wow.”

  “What are doing?” Devon asked from behind him as she applied the last of the ointment to the back of his upper thighs.

  “Just providing some mood music.”

  “Don’t.” Drum instructed gruffly from his position leaning against the wall next to the bed, his massive arms crossed over his equally massive chest.

  “Can’t blame a man for wallowing in the fact that two gorgeous doctors are attending to his wounds.”

  Drum’s black gaze narrowed. “I leave the blame game to others, I’m more of a break, disembowel, behead sort of guy. You understand where I’m coming from, Merrow?”

  “Perfectly.” Liam winked at the big guy, pleased when he was rewarded with a responding low growl for his effort. “So, was anyone else hurt in the explosion? Princess?” He looked over, Devon was in the process of wiping her hands clean with an antiseptic cloth. “You okay?” From his current reclining position she looked fine, except for the back of her dress which was stained and had a rip near one shoulder. “Did they catch who caused the fire?”

  “I’m fine and no, no one seems to have any clue as to who took over that heat globe. Whoever they are though they’d better pray that the police get to them first.” Devon’s killing nails shot out, glinting wickedly in the light.

  “Ah, Princess, planning to seek revenge on my behalf, that’s kind of heart-warming.”

  Devon blinked, looking surprised for a moment. “You can take care of yourself, did you see what that bastard did to my car?” Several of Devon’s long curls flicked out snapping at the empty air. “A quick death is too good for them.”

  “That fire was weird right? Does anyone have any idea what sort of creature can produce green fire?”

  Drum shook his head. “Green is unusual. I could try asking my Goddess Maat, but she’ll probably just say something cryptic and annoying. I think the question we should be asking is, who would want the Merrow dead?” Drum’s black gaze bored into Liam. “Do you owe someone money? Have an affair with someone’s wife? Jack someone’s car? Cheat? Lie? Defraud? Steal?”

  “Hey!” Liam reared up on his elbows. “Where’s this coming from?”

  “You’re a Merrow.” Drum pointed out. “And this is the second time someone who can produce magical green fire has come after your bright blue ass, speaking of which, I don’t suppose we could put a sheet over that could we?”

  “You didn’t tell them?” Liam’s head shot around to pin Devon with a dark look.

  “Tell us what?” Nell looked up from where she was finishing packing away her emergency medical travel kit.

  Devon huffed out a sigh. “Liam seems to believe that the explosion tonight was meant for me, that someone wants me dead.”

  “I was on my way to warn her of that very fact when I got blind-sided on my motor bike.”

  “Oh, Devon.” Nell shook her head, dread filling her big blue eyes. “The Council aren’t going to be happy that you didn’t warn them of what’s going on. Especially on top of all the damage you did to the street tonight…”

  Devon rolled her eyes. “All the whining, seriously, I put the fire out, didn’t I? And all I get is grief.”

  Liam frowned, how had Devon succeeded in putting the fire out? All he remembered was lying on top of her, on the road, the searing pain eating at his flesh, there had been a tremendous bang and then water, damn his memory.

  “And I didn’t tell anyone about the supposed death threat because besides Liam’s accident there was absolutely no proof that anyone was actually out to get me. Nell, you know me, on any given day I upset what, two, three people and they’re always… ‘I’m going to get you’. Who can take that seriously?”

  Nell shrugged. “The numbers are probably more like nine to ten people a day, but I can see where you are coming from.”

  “How did you put the fire out?” Liam enquired.

  Devon looked uncomfortable for a moment, it was a little hard to tell with her dark skin tone but Liam could have sworn that high colour had flooded her cheeks.

  “It’s out, what does it matter how?”

  Nell spoke up. “She punched a hole through the asphalt with her hair and broke a water main. Even then, it took longer than it should have for the flames to go out.”

  Liam was truly impressed. “Cool.” He’d known Makura hair was strong, but he hadn’t realised it was scary level strong. Hmmm, he should be feeling intimidated right about now, instead he was vaguely turned on thinking about all the ways Devon could tie him to a bed frame. Thank Poseidon he was lying face down.

  Devon bit the inside of her cheek, determined to keep her expression stoic. Liam’s reaction was unusual. Heat and admiration filling his eyes. Most men, when they learnt how deadly her hair could truly be, tended to back away, pale and shaking until they were out of striking range and then they would turn and run for their lives.

  Out the corner of her eye she noted Drum studying her hair intently, an intrigued look in his eyes. “You want to go a few rounds, Hulk? Your knife, my hair?”

  “Now, now.” Nell stepped between her husband and friend. “That’s the adrenalin talking… or just sheer pig-headedness. I think you both need a goodnight’s rest. Liam, make sure you drink plenty of fluids.” Nell pointed towards the jug of water sitting on the bedside table, the purple colour signalling that Nell had added a healing potion to the liquid. “Probably both Ramsey and the fire chief will be stopping by tomorrow to talk to you both. So until then, Liam rest, and Devon, take it down a notch. Drum has asked Flynn and Dash to do a couple of fly overs throughout the night, so you don’t have to worry about a follow up attack.” Nell picked up her doctor’s bag and made for the door. “Drum? Are you coming?” She noted her husband still eyeing Devon’s hair intently, she could tell by the sparkle in his dark eyes that he badly wanted to test his strength. Honestly, with all his warrior posturing, they’d be here all night. “I thought you wanted me to check your vitals after the party?”

  Liam blinked, wow, for such a big man Drum sure moved fast, bustling his wife out the door.

  Devon rolled her eyes and followed them out to the hallway. She wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to the sight of people disappearing into her hallway closet, and translocating to whatever destination they chose. Though the system had certainly been convenient this evening in getting a hurt Liam away from the disaster zone surrounding what once had been her car.

  Being a suspicious Makura she reached out and turned the key, locking the closet. She didn’t like surprise visitors.

  Swivelling on her high heels, Devon slowly made her way back towards the guestroom. Surprised at how calm she suddenly felt. Gone was the churning anger and the sheer terror that had gripped her the moment that green ball had exploded into flames, totalling her car… hurting Liam.

  She recalled the look on his face when he swooped in front of her, turning into a wall of water. The determination, to shield her, protect her. And then that brief look of horror that had filled those aquamarine depths as the green fire forced him back into his human shape and he’d realised that he… they, were in real tro
uble.

  It confused her. He confused her. He could have ducked and run. Merrow notoriously knew when to cut their losses and leave everyone else high and dry. But Liam hadn’t only stayed, he’d tried to shield her.

  Grr, and her response to him confused her even more. Every time he smiled, flashing that dimple her way, she had to fight the urge to smile back. Yami, she’d gotten turned on applying blue goo to his buttocks just now. Which was hardly professional of her. He provoked her, he prodded her and then he smiled that damn cocky smile of his her way and a small flame burst to life between her legs.

  Rivers and Lakes, she liked the Merrow, actually liked him. Well, just because she liked him didn’t mean she had to marry him. There was nothing suitable about the man. No fixed address, embarrassing so called job of taking girlie photos. Shit, was it too late to kill him?

  Liam looked up as Devon walked back in to the room, she had a vaguely murderous look on her face but he wasn’t worried. “My hero.” He fluttered his eyelashes and smiled her way.

  Devon’s glare amped up to full throttle in a split second. “Excuse me?”

  “This is the second time you’ve saved my life, Princess. If I didn’t know better I’d suspect you were beginning to care about me.”

  Devon snorted derisively. “Let’s get one thing straight Merrow. I was trying to save my car out there tonight, you just happened to get in the way and benefitted.”

  “An accident you say?” He gave her a sly smile as he picked up the glass of purple water and sniffed it, surprisingly, it smelt okay, flowery with an underlying scent of salt. “You were awful eager to volunteer to apply salve to my rear end. Come on Princess, admit it, I’m starting to grow on you, aren’t I?” Liam closed his eyes and downed half the contents of the glass, missing how pale Devon had suddenly turned. “Whoa, that stuff is strong.” His vision had begun to blur at the edges.

  “Nell added something extra to help you sleep tonight.” Devon huffed a small sigh. “I can’t believe my car is gone. You’re like a bad luck penny or something Merrow.”

  “Me?” Liam lay back down, rubbing his cheek against the sheet, watching her through heavy lidded aquamarine eyes as she stood over him, hands on her hips, glaring down at him. “Please, if anyone’s bad luck it’s you Princess. I’ve lost a motorbike remember and several layers of skin off my face and now my back and ass.”

  “Yes, because there have been two attempts to inflict grievous bodily harm, and the only common denominator at both sites is you.”

  Liam stifled a yawn. “Na-huh. You can’t still think I’m the target, not after tonight.”

  “It’s exactly what I’m thinking. You were about to get in my car.”

  “We… were about to get in your car.” Liam amended. “Did you tell anyone we were on a date tonight? That I would be going home with you?”

  “Of course not.”

  Liam ignored how appalled Devon sounded and focused on her words, he was too tired to take her tone to heart just at the moment. “A-hah. And to anyone observing my movements, I arrived with Nabha and Adalard. Common sense would dictate that they were my ride and would be taking me home, not that I would be jumping in your car.”

  “True. Anyone watching you tonight probably would have assumed you were going home with the blonde.” Devon knew her tone sounded waspish, and if she could take the words back she would have.

  “Blonde?” Liam’s drowsy eyes shot open wide in surprise. “What blonde?” He was beginning to read Devon’s expressions, she didn’t look just her normal go-to angry, she looked genuinely pissed off. Was that a chink in her tough Makura hide, was he actually getting to her?

  “Elisabeth Bright!”

  “Elisabeth? And Me?” Liam couldn’t help but smile at the idea.

  “And take that salacious smirk off your face, the woman is old enough to be your mother… even if she doesn’t look a day over thirty-five.”

  “This is not my salacious smirk, trust me, you’ll know that smirk when you see it. Besides, no way would I be having impure thoughts about Elisabeth, she could kick my butt twelve ways from Sunday and never break a sweat. And for the record, she is someone’s mother, I happen to be friendly with her sons. That’s how I know her.” Liam yawned and closed his eyes. “No need to get jealous, Princess.”

  “I am not jealous.” Devon snapped out between gritted teeth.

  Liam sighed sleepily. “Yeah, yeah, sure… you and I… both know… how much you want me.” Liam yawned again. “Sorry. Getting blown up and fried again has really taken it out of me. Can we take this up tomorrow?” His eyes stayed closed, sleep beckoned.

  Devon was torn between wanting to strangle him and wanting to brush the golden blonde hair off his forehead. Which automatically made her want to strangle him again.

  She looked down the bed at the hideous bumpy blue glistening mess of his back and lower body. The man had tried to save her tonight. Hadn’t paused to think of his own safety, just thrown himself in front of her. Rivers and Lakes, why did he have to go an act all chivalrous? She wanted to keep him in the box she’d labelled ‘shiftless and sleazy – do not open until after safely wed to one of his slightly less shiftless and sleazy brothers’.

  Hold on, was Liam Chambers a danger to her carefully laid out plans?

  She glared down at his sleeping form. Okay, she was a tiny bit attracted to the dratted man. Was tiny the right word? She’d seen Liam naked several times and tiny was probably not a word that was ever used to describe the man. Whoa, hot flush.

  Okay, so she was negligibly - barely worth mentioning or thinking about - attracted to the man. Big deal. Common sense dictated the only way Liam would be attending her wedding would be as an usher. Once the ring was on her finger she’d never have to see him again. Except of course when she and her new husband would be obligated to attend his wedding to some fish faced bride. Devon’s killing nails snapped out at the thought. Yami, she was tempted to rake them down his bright blue hide. Grr, she released a hissing breath, her response was unacceptable. How dare the man make her care!

  No, no… absolutely not. Liam was not the man for her. He was too funny, too good-looking, a great kisser… NO! She needed to concentrate on his bad points. He was too young for her. He had neither a home, a respectable job or, from what she could tell, an ounce of ambition.

  Hmmm, but if all she needed in a man was someone to change a lightbulb, well she bet Liam was capable of that, or they could hire a handy man. Wait, what? No, imagine introducing him to her colleagues, her acquaintances. Okay, yes, he’d probably charm them. But no one would respect her if they found out he was a penniless drifter who took racy photos of barely dressed women. She’d be a laughing stock.

  Devon sighed as Liam’s breathing relaxed and deepened. She was back to wanting to strangle the man… so why then did a lock of her hair stray out to rub his cheek? Snatching her hair away Devon stormed out of the room feeling vaguely nauseous.

  For the first time in forever she felt uneasy and out of control. Makura didn’t do tepid, wishy washy emotions. They only had three settings, silently seething, angry and revenge mode. They didn’t feel conflicted or unsure and they certainly didn’t ever entertain the idea of throwing out a carefully calculated plan because their hormones were getting in the way.

  Seriously, she needed to Makura up, forget about the man lying naked face down in her guest bedroom and concentrate on the future. Her career and carefully planned out life were at stake. She needed to think positively, maybe tomorrow all her problems would be solved. Perhaps suitor number seven would be the answer to her prayers.

  Chapter Eight

  “You bought a prostitute on our date!”

  The hush that fell over the packed bar lasted all of a heartbeat before conversation returned full blast.

  The gorgeous woman sitting next to suitor seven laughed with genuine amusement, throwing back her head and releasing a throaty chuckle. “I prefer the term high-end escort, and please, call me Moni
que.” Deep blue eyes sparkled with clear merriment.

  Devon paused, she’d been about to blow a fuse. Bad enough when the couple had first walked in thinking suitor seven had bought his own date… to their date. But now to find out she was a call girl.

  “Hold on.” She studied Monique, gorgeous, pale cream skin, gleaming blue eyes, short curly black hair and the woman had a serious body, encased in an even more seriously expensive Chanel vintage purple dress. “High-end? As in money?” She turned a speculative eye to suitor number seven.

  Bryant Chambers had just shot up with a bullet to the number one spot. Okay, he was a dickhead. That was crystal clear. Fancy thinking he could out manoeuvre her by bringing a paid companion on their date. Hmmm, but she could definitely work with the fact the man wasn’t very bright, especially if he was wealthy and heterosexual. And from the looks of his black Prada suit, three hundred dollar haircut and the clearly pricey Monique on his arm, the man did in fact have money. He was good looking, perhaps a little too good looking, with dark honey streaked hair, light blue eyes and ultra-white teeth.

  Monique laughed again and several of the men at nearby tables shifted for a better view of her.

  Bryant for his part, froze in his seat, eyeing Devon warily right back. No doubt feeling like prey sensing his deadliest enemy had just cornered him and it was dinner time. Nervously, he plucked at his silk tie, his jaw working as he clenched an unclenched it.

  If his plan had been to send Devon running, then it had failed abysmally as she gave him a warm smile before turning in her seat to signal Nico at the bar to bring a bottle of wine to the table.

  “Um… wait.” Bryant was frowning, looking between Devon and Monique, clearly trying to pinpoint the exact moment his devious plan had gone awry.

  Devon smiled again, contemplating her two luncheon companions.

  Bryant was at least smart enough to shift uncomfortably at the sight of a Makura smiling his way. Yes, the man definitely had potential. Like clay, maybe she could mould him.