Dark and Deadly: Eight Bad Boys of Paranormal Romance

by Ashley Jennifer

  “I like this one,” Elizabeth said. “One of the ladies I lived with when I was little loved this show. She was nice.” In retrospect Elizabeth knew she should have been kinder to the woman, but Elizabeth had been so afraid of being split up from Mabel that she’d been prickly and defensive. The sweet old lady had understood that, Elizabeth saw now.

  Olaf listened as though Elizabeth imparted great wisdom, then he abandoned the television and climbed up onto the sofa beside her. Olaf was nine, Ronan had said, but he acted younger. Maybe because Shifters matured at a much slower rate than humans, or maybe because Olaf had been through a lot.

  As Olaf seated himself against Elizabeth, she noted that his white-blond hair bore tiny blue streaks. Mabel.

  Elizabeth was tired, but she was happy to eat the terrific soup and have the warmth of Olaf beside her. This reminded her of what she and Mabel would do in the bad old days, sitting tightly side-by-side as though that would keep them together forever. I won’t ever let us be split up, Mabel. I promise.

  She’d kept her promise, no matter what.

  When the show ended, and Elizabeth set down her empty bowl, Olaf climbed down from the sofa, calmly removed his clothes, and shifted. He did it too close to the coffee table, which got shoved over, but Elizabeth found herself looking at the cutest polar bear cub she’d ever seen.

  Not that she’d seen many, not this close. Olaf made a little baby growl then climbed back onto the sofa, his long claws tearing the fabric. He flopped down next to Elizabeth, put his head and one paw on Elizabeth’s lap, and closed his eyes.

  Elizabeth went still, the trust Olaf was showing both stunning and warming her.

  Olaf stirred a little, then let out his breath, eyes closing more tightly. Elizabeth couldn’t stop herself from stroking his fur. She found it both soft and strong, sort of wiry without being tough.

  Elizabeth went on petting him, finding comfort in the act. Olaf’s breath whuffed hot over her blue-jeaned knee, the cub relaxing into sleep.

  Rebecca didn’t return. Elizabeth lifted the remote and switched off the television, and silence crept over the house. They didn’t have any clocks in here, so nothing ticked. There was only the quiet of the outside world, the faint breeze through the open window. Austin summers were hot and sticky, but the coming fall could be cool and clean.

  She was still sitting there, Olaf half on her lap, when Ronan came in.

  CHAPTER 9

  Again Elizabeth was struck with how quiet he was. When he’d charged Marquez in her store, she hadn’t heard a thing until he’d reached them.

  Ronan saw Olaf sleeping, closed his mouth on the greeting he’d been about to give her, and stepped inside. A cool breeze stirred wind chimes on the porch and wafted through the windows.

  “Where’s Mabel?” Elizabeth whispered.

  “With Cherie. I took her to Cherie’s friend’s. Two doors down.”

  “Connor?”

  Ronan righted the coffee table, which had been left on its side, and put her empty bowl back on it. Nothing had broken, at least. “Took him home. Scott’s staying over at the Morrisseys tonight too, so it will be less crowded here. Becks went out?”

  “She implied shopping, but nothing’s open this late.”

  “Means she’s prowling. Becks is past ready to mate, but she’s being very picky.”

  “What about Ellison? He seems like he’d be willing.”

  Ronan grimaced. “Goddess, I hope not. He’s a Lupine. That’s all I’d need, half-wolf, half-bear Shifters all over the place, full of themselves, like Ellison.”

  “How would that work?” Elizabeth remained still as Ronan collapsed on the sofa next to her, stretching into a sprawl. Olaf never moved. “How can a Shifter be half wolf, half bear?”

  “Wouldn’t. The cubs would be born in human shape and then take their animal form a few years later. They’ll go one way or the other, so a Lupine-Ursine mating could have half the family wolves and half bears. That would be interesting.”

  Elizabeth gave Olaf another soft stroke. “Olaf’s already big. What’s going to happen when he’s fully grown? Polar bears are gigantic.”

  “And Shifter polar bears are even bigger.” Ronan stretched his arm across the back of the sofa, touching her shoulders. “We’ll deal with that when we need to. Rebecca and Cherie might be mated and gone by the time he reaches full size. I built the Den to be plenty big.”

  “For Olaf?”

  “Built it before he came. But sure.”

  “None of this fazes you.”

  Ronan cupped Elizabeth’s shoulder with his big hand. He smelled like the night overlaid with the warmth of himself. “None of what?”

  “Having cubs live in your house. Saving me from being shot. Having me and Mabel move in. Mate-claiming me so Liam would stop asking me questions.”

  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, squeezin
g 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.”