He moved with his shrug. "I take things as they come."
"Most people don't. Most people stress out. I know I do."
Ronan regarded her with calm, dark eyes. "I lived a long time alone. You learn to take life slowly when you live like that. Why worry about what terrible thing will happen tomorrow?"
"Don't you think worrying helps you prepare?"
"Maybe. Or maybe it just messes you up."
Ronan had a point, but Elizabeth at age nine had realized that if she didn't take care of Mabel, no one else would.
"Mabel almost died when she was a baby because the foster mother we lived with wouldn't take her to the hospital. Too lazy and too drunk, but Mabel was really sick. I tried to steal the neighbor's car and take her there, but the neighbor caught me. Fortunately, he was a nice guy, and drove us there himself. He was a fireman, and he knew people in the emergency room. Good thing." Elizabeth laughed a little. "I was a shrimp and couldn't reach the pedals."
Ronan's eyes held anger. "I hope you didn't stay with that woman."
"No, we were moved. I never did learn the fireman's name, and I never saw him again. But he made me realize there were good people and bad people out there. You have to figure out which is which, but good ones are there. Like you."
Elizabeth put her hand on Ronan's where he rested it on her shoulder, her fingers small against his big, blunt ones.
"What makes you think I'm one of the good ones?" he asked.
"You stopped Marquez, for one. He had a gun--you couldn't know whether he'd have shot you dead. And letting us stay here, eating your food and taking up space. And what you do for the kids--I mean, the cubs." Elizabeth stroked Olaf's fur again. "I'd have been able to tell right away if you mistreated them. But I know they're happy."
Ronan spread his fingers and twined hers between them. "You were like them, weren't you?"
"A rescue case? Pretty much. Only I never got rescued. There were good times, don't get me wrong. It wasn't all terrible. We lived in some good houses, made friends."
"You rescued yourself, Lizzie," Ronan said. He squeezed her fingers, the pressure warm. "But I don't mind coming to your rescue."
Elizabeth squeezed back, feeling the warmth travel all the way through her body. "Why did you stop Liam from questioning me?"
"Because Liam's dangerous," Ronan said. "He and Sean have that Irish charm thing going, but don't underestimate them. They can be hard-ass if they want to be, and their dad's worse. Me mate-claiming you means you'll never be handed over to their dad. It means I've got your back."
With his strong arm behind her shoulders, Elizabeth started to believe it.
"I promise you, Ronan, my secrets won't hurt anyone except me and Mabel. It's because of Mabel that I don't want to tell you."
"WitSec?" Ronan asked.
Elizabeth started. "What?"
"Are you in witness protection? I won't out you, but I don't need a Fed breathing down my neck when one comes looking for you."
"No." She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. "Call it Elizabeth protection." She opened her eyes again. "Yes, I moved here six years ago with a new name and a new name for Mabel, but not because I'm running from the law or in witness protection or because I owe people lot of money. I just needed . . . to start again."
He regarded her quietly, keeping whatever emotions he felt hidden. "People can start again without changing their identities. Usually they change identities when they don't want anyone from their past finding them."
Elizabeth said nothing. Ronan was close to the truth, but Elizabeth had learned the hard way that saying nothing was the best thing, no matter what it made people think of her. If she opened up to Ronan, would Liam compel him to tell Elizabeth's secrets? He'd said that this mate-claim protected her from that, but she was sure the smooth-talking Liam would probably find some loophole. Liam seemed to be good at getting his own way.
But Ronan, she'd seen, despite his brawn and good-natured banter, was not stupid. He studied her now with shrewd perception. "You don't have to tell me, Elizabeth. You wait until you're ready. And if it's never, then it's never."
"It won't be never."
Ronan brought their clasped hands up and rubbed her cheek with his broad finger. "The bears in this house have been through a lot. I've learned not to force them to talk about it. You take your time."
Elizabeth turned her head to find herself nose-to-nose with him. "I used to be a very bad judge of character, is all." Elizabeth slid her hand to his neck, playing with the ends of his very short hair. She liked how it felt, prickly but soft, like Olaf's fur. Under that was his Collar, warm metal fused to his neck. "But I've become much better at it," she said softly.
"And I'm one of the good ones?"
For answer, Elizabeth leaned in and kissed him.
It started as a small kiss, a thank-you kiss, but Ronan's big hand came around her neck, and he slanted his mouth over hers. His answering kiss was strong, warm, responsive.
Elizabeth parted her lips, her body tightening as his tongue swept into her mouth. His strength took her breath away, but he gentled it for her, holding back. Holding back a lot. The wildness in him, tempered for her, excited her.
He kissed slowly, firmly, his lips smooth. Elizabeth let her fingers slide down his back, finding muscles so solid they didn't give under her fingers. His hand on her neck never moved, as though he held her up, as though she'd never fall as long as he was with her.
Elizabeth moved closer. She kissed him hungrily, needing to know he'd hold her up forever.
On her lap, Olaf stirred and emitted a little growl.
Ronan eased from the kiss but didn't release her. He held her, their faces almost touching, his eyes so dark. A spark winked deep within them.
I can take care of myself. This was Elizabeth's constant mantra. But wouldn't it be wonderful to surrender to strength such as Ronan had, to know she would be safe--for always?
"We should put him to bed," Ronan said.
Olaf. He was warm on her lap, sleeping soundly. Elizabeth didn't want to let him go.
"You have a bed for baby polar bears?"
"He'll shift back."
Ronan pressed a last, soft kiss to Elizabeth's mouth, rose, and lifted Olaf. The cub didn't move and didn't change shape. Ronan signaled to Elizabeth to follow, and he carried the bear out of the living room and up the stairs.
The largest front room was taken by the two male cubs and held the detritus of boys of two ages: magazines, CDs, posters, toy trucks, action figures. No video games and no TV, because Shifters weren't allowed much technology. A small computer stood in one corner, an older model. That was all.
Both beds were fairly big and very sturdy. Elizabeth saw why when Ronan laid Olaf on one. He curled up, the claws of one paw slicing the cover of the pillow. From all the rents on the pillow, he'd done that more than once.
Ronan dragged a cover over him. "If he shifts back in his sleep, he'll get cold," he explained. He lingered to rest his large hand on Olaf's shoulder.
Under his touch, Olaf took a deep breath, and then shifted effortlessly back to the small boy with blue-streaked blond hair. He opened his eyes. "Lizbeth?"
"I'm right here." Elizabeth leaned down and kissed his cheek. "Good night, Olaf."
Olaf caught her hand in a surprisingly strong grip. "Stay."
"She's got to go to bed, Olaf," Ronan said. "She's tired."
Olaf's eyes took on a glint of panic Elizabeth had sometimes seen in Mabel's when Mabel had been little. Mabel's greatest terror had been that she'd go to sleep and wake up alone, Elizabeth gone, never to be found again. Olaf, Ronan had said, had seen his parents killed. That terror had come true for him.
"No," Olaf said. "Stay."
"It's all right." Elizabeth sat down on the large bed, Olaf not letting go of her hand. "I don't mind. He's scared."
"He has to learn he'll be all right," Ronan said.
Olaf's grip tightened even more. He would have wrestler strength
when he grew up, greater maybe even than Ronan's.
"Does he have to learn tonight? I don't mind."
Ronan stood over them, hands on hips, a frustrated parent. "All right, all right. But only tonight."
Elizabeth lay down on the bed behind Olaf and pulled the cover over her, kicking her loose shoes to the floor. Olaf snuggled back against her and looked up at Ronan.
"Stay too," he said.
Ronan heaved a sigh. "Becks is spoiling you. Fine, big guy. We'll both stay."
He collapsed onto Scott's empty bed, which creaked under his weight, then shucked his belt and shoes and pulled quilts over his big body.
Olaf fell asleep quickly, but Elizabeth remained awake next to him, still feeling the imprint of Ronan's kiss. Her life was changing dramatically as she watched, and she needed to make decisions.
Ronan, up most of the night before, all day at the store, and then again tonight, fell asleep quickly. He snored. Rebecca hadn't been kidding. Not snorting wet-sounding snores, but deep, steady ones, his breath going all the way to the bottom of his lungs and coming all the way out again.
The sound didn't bother Elizabeth. It was comforting. A huge, strong man slept near her, on hand to defend her. Ronan was a swift, silent killer, and a protector, and beneath all that, he had a heart of vast generosity. Elizabeth in the past had been duped by people who'd pretended to be kind, but Ronan was kind while pretending not to be.
Elizabeth drifted off to sleep so gradually she didn't know she was doing it, but all through the night, she heard the solidity of Ronan's snores, and knew she was guarded.
* * *
Sundays, Elizabeth always closed the store but went to work in the back, getting ready for the week to come. Ronan went in with her, and Ellison and Spike came to fix the bear-shaped hole in her door.
Rebecca had returned while Ronan and Elizabeth breakfasted with the ravenous Olaf, Rebecca looking tired but pleased with herself. She was wearing a "Keep Austin Weird" T-shirt that hadn't been on her when she left.
"Good shopping trip, I take it?" Elizabeth said, licking honey from her fork.
"Oh, yeah." Rebecca yawned, stretched, and went upstairs to shower.
Scott came home before Elizabeth and Ronan left, as did Cherie and Mabel. Cherie and Mabel were chipper; Scott mumbled something and shuffled upstairs to his bedroom.
Olaf wanted to see the store, but Elizabeth, uncertain that Marquez or his friends wouldn't return, said no. Olaf was disappointed, but he agreed, with surprising cheerfulness, to wait until Ronan thought it safe.
"He trusts you," Elizabeth said as she and Ronan headed out for Ronan's motorcycle.
"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."
Bodyguard (shifters unbound ) Page 8
