Bodyguards of Samhain Shifter Box Set

by Lisa Daniels

  “Oh, I know you’re with my daughter now,” Rickard told him. “And it’s okay. Though I suggest keeping it under wraps for now.” He patted the werewolf, who gave a growl of confusion. “If you do see me slipping up, however, you may do whatever it takes to ensure I move on.”

  “Easy to say when you’re a difficult thing to take down,” Janos said.

  “I’m your employer. Not a ‘thing’,” Rickard said, sounding annoyed and so like her father that Talia realized that maybe he was in there, after all. With Elodie, she never knew who she was before. With her father… it still felt like him. But there was something else, too. Something deeply uncomfortable.

  He took his leave when they had no more questions for him, and they remained together in silence for a moment.

  “Well…” Janos said. “That just happened.”

  “My father… he made a deal.” That absolutely sounded like her father, she thought grudgingly. Turning himself into this rather than be consigned to death. Except he still had his heartbeat. His body was alive, his brain had been damaged and emptied. He was bound to a revenant.

  This, she thought, is not what I expected. At all.

  Eventually, she was able to smile again with Janos. She had a future set with him. A decision to make regarding whether she should tell Rosen about their father. And she knew she would need to watch him closely, making sure he did what he said he wanted to do, and not anything else added.

  Certainly seemed like she was going to be busy.

  “Any time you want something done, just say the word,” Janos told her.

  “I just want you close,” she replied. And to finish my course, start my career, and not get harassed on the street. That’ll be nice, too.

  “You have me. For as long as you need me, you’ll have me.”

  Holding Janos’ hand, she smiled. “I know.”

  Stressing about the potential situation with her father was too much. So she chose instead to focus on the moment she shared with Janos, on the fact that her father still acted like her father for now… on the fact that the next few years were probably going to be very, very interesting…

  Could be worse, she supposed. At least she had someone like Janos standing by her side, willingly. He didn’t think the worst of her. He wanted to be with her regardless.

  She closed her eyes, leaning against him, taking a few steady breaths. “Just so you know,” Janos said, “I’m okay now. With what happened. About the necromancer, back when they tried to get the information out of my mother.”

  She rubbed her cheek against his shirt. “Hmm?”

  “Still going to have some problems with it. And with… whatever situation we’re in now. But I don’t have any with you. And I’ll try my best… to be as understanding as possible.”

  “Same.” She squeezed his hand. “I need to be understanding to you as well. I know necromancy isn’t an easy thing to tolerate. I just hope you’ll tolerate me.”

  “Of course I will.” He leaned over to kiss her, and they both smiled into the contact. It was nice, to be held by someone. To know that Janos had complete faith in Talia, that he didn’t judge her.

  Then, still holding hands, they decided together to have some food, and see where the day took them next.

  Rosen’s Bodyguard

  Bodyguards of Samhain

  Book 2

  By: Lisa Daniels

  Prologue

  Necromancers aren’t all bad. At least, that was what young Albert thought, reading the news about the attack on a local bar, and how the police had employed one to speak to the victims.

  It made sense. Souls had to go somewhere after they died, right? His mother said they went to heaven, but wasn’t there an in-between, before heaven? Purgatory, perhaps.

  A necromancer probably visited this Purgatory and spoke to all the people there. They must never get lonely. Albert felt wistful, thinking of a necromancer conversing with his father, talking about horse racing, as he liked, or the latest baseball game, sitting on some transparent chair.

  When he asked his mother if they could go visit a necromancer, her eyes had bulged in sheer alarm. He saw the animal flickering behind her eyes. The panther. The one he’d one day be able to turn into.

  “No, son,” she hissed. “We won’t visit one of those things.”

  Albert was ten and perfectly capable of getting things done by himself. So without his mother’s knowledge, instead of that trip to the arcade with his friends he told her he was doing, he visited the precinct, where the local necromancer was supposed to work. The police were forthright. And when they heard his request, there were a few cautious glances, before they took him to a waiting room and promised to be back with the necromancer in time.

  The man that came out looked nothing like a ‘thing’. He resembled a kindly, gentle figure, who smiled and listened to Albert’s plea to find a way to contact his father. The necromancer was a busy man, deep in the midst of an investigation, but he promised to see if Albert’s father was still on the other side. Albert brought his father’s ashes the next week, again without his mother’s knowledge, because the necromancer had asked for the body for a sure way to connect.

  The necromancer had hovered over the ashes for a moment, his blue eyes glazing over, as if looking into a faraway place. Then he asked what Albert wanted to know.

  Wonderful. Albert’s father wanted to stay until his son was all grown up, and then he planned to move on.

  So Albert didn’t want to grow up. He couldn’t see his father physically, but all the words the necromancer said—they were words that only Albert’s father knew. He would wait. He missed his wife. He had buried a stash of money in the garden and told no one. He hoped Albert would be a strong man.

  With the conversation ended, the necromancer had given Albert a smile and promised they could meet again and talk soon.

  Two days later, Albert found out that the necromancer had been killed. A random shooting from a hate group. Nothing to be done.

  “Good riddance,” his mother had said.

  But all Albert felt was sadness.

  Chapter One – Rosen

  Rosen glared at Chief Inspector Morden. The crotchety inspector wore a stern expression under his pepper-speckled mustache and beard, jaw set in that line she’d long since associated with stubbornness.

  “You can’t be serious,” she said.

  “Since when have you ever known me to be anything else?” Morden said, all his attention fixed on her. He did that, when he spoke to people. Gave them everything he had, so it felt like nothing else in the world existed. It made victims and witnesses feel important and heard, and criminals squirm in their shoes. “It has to be done, Grieves. We’ve been having too many fatalities of necromancers in the past few months. It hinders our investigations. I thought with your father in the council, things would be better, but it seems all his prominence has done is to bring the hate to the surface.”

  “I warned him of that,” Rosen said sourly. “It was too soon. Public opinion hasn’t changed enough. And he was elected to the council against the wishes of the populace.” She touched her wrist, where the bones still throbbed from the assassination attempt four months ago, especially when it was about to storm. Her little sister’s friend from college turned out to be less of a friend and more of a psychopath, of the revenant kind. A revenant came from the deepest, darkest part of the Other Side. Some souls, if left too long after their deaths, consumed by hatred, tended to turn. They went from mild and ghostly to ravenous and vengeful. They burned with single-minded purpose, and it took a team of necromancers to pin one down, because they were too powerful to deal with alone.

  “Your father did the right thing by your sister, giving her protection,” Morden said, one hand curling into a thick fist. “And right now, you’re the only full-time necromancer in the Lasthearth precinct. If we lose you, our crime solve rate will plummet. So I’ve already taken the liberty to hire someone.”

  “Have you now?�
�� Rosen sighed, tugging her fingers through a snarl in her dark hair and breaking a small ball off. She let it float into the wastepaper pin, trying to think of a way out of this inconvenient situation and realizing, in glum defeat, that logically, this was the best thing to happen. The facts were there.

  Necromancers were being specifically targeted. Sure, they were able to arrest the people doing it, but it still left a trail of bodies. Didn’t matter how strong her powers were if someone randomly decided they wanted to pull a gun on her one day and finish her off.

  “I was considering transferring you to a quieter precinct,” he continued, sharply watching to see if she planned to bring up any protests. She kept herself quiet, though, and he continued with, “But we’re getting a number of new cases in the area that I think will need your skills. And...” he leaned closer, creating an air of interest, “they’re bringing the bones of Laogh McKenna.”

  Rosen stared at him for a moment. That name sounded familiar. Why did it…? “Wait. Is that the unsolved murder case? Back in northeast Samhain, like, 18th century?”

  “Yep.” Morden looked rather pleased at her interest. “The city’s forensic anthropologists have the remains. They think her spirit’s still around, on account of strange things happening around the bones. Might be a chance to solve a very old murder of a once powerful sorceress.”

  In spite of her mood from being assigned a bodyguard, Rosen’s face cracked into a smile. This was good news. A potential step up in her renown in the policing and forensic circles, and a noteworthy case to solve. Necromancers did better with cold cases, from back in the days when DNA wasn’t a thing that could be used in evidence. They summoned necromancers for major cases that needed to be solved fast, and sometimes mediums, but mediums tended to be less reliable than a necromancer, because of the whole possession aspect.

  “You’re just trying to sweeten the deal,” she accused, some of the bite gone from her tone.

  “Little bit,” Morden admitted. “But you’ve been saying for a while you’ve wanted to do one of the old cold cases. Here’s your chance. Two days’ time. After your bodyguard arrives… which should be sometime this evening.”

  “I don’t have a guest bedroom.”

  “You have your father’s estate, do you not? You know you’re not getting out of it. He’ll be a live-in guard. He can’t protect you if he’s in a hotel every night.”

  Rosen couldn’t help but think of her younger sister, who also had a live-in guard, hired by their father specifically. She’d put her foot down, insisting a guard would interfere with her results, and Rickard reluctantly shied away from giving her the same treatment. “My partner’s not going to be happy.”

  “I’m sure Mr. Fraser will be happy for you to be alive,” Morden said dryly. “Must we continue with the objections? Time’s ticking, and there’s paperwork to do.”

  “Yes, sir. What kind of guard will this be, if I may ask?” Rosen said, enforcing a tone of politeness. Even though she half wanted to scream something.

  “Supernatural, of course. Many shapeshifters hire out their services. Police funds enrolled you one; don’t know what type he is, though. Just that he’ll do his job.”

  The final details needed to be hammered out. Rosen needed to give permission to use her address, sign a protection contract, and the bodyguard would be assigned an official role to allow him in and out of the precinct. The last thing to do was to break the news to her partner of two years.

  She doubted she’d be enjoying that much.

  * * *

  James didn’t answer his phone, so Rosen surmised he was probably neck-deep in watching some baseball game or whatever sport it was he liked. Sometimes he invited friends over, too, usually without her permission. It irked her, but the last time she’d pointed it out to him, he simply said that she didn’t control him, and he paid equal rent on the place, so he should be allowed. She could, as well… if she wanted.

  Except he always found some fault with her friends. Trials and tribulations of being in a relationship, she supposed. Not that she had too much experience with them. Just the knowledge that when you got into one, you had to try hard to make it work.

  “Hey, love,” James said from the sofa, where he sat in just his underwear.

  “Hey,” she replied, tugging off her uniform, kicking off her shoes after closing the door, and heading straight for the bathroom. “How was your day?”

  “Oh, great, great. The Harpies won another game, flattened the Red Panthers. Derek’s asking if I want to go out and drink later, so I’m thinking yeah.”

  “Cool,” Rosen said, waiting to see if he’d ask how her day was, or if she wanted to come out as well.

  He didn’t.

  And it left a tiny knot of resentment in her soul. After cleaning herself down and dressing into more comfortable clothes, she was treated to James’ account of the baseball game, the details of each inning, the tactics that were done well, the ones that failed… her attention glazed over, like her eyes at these moments, but there was no hiding. She knew how agitated he got if she didn’t at least seem like she was listening.

  Eventually, she found an opportune moment to interject with the news from the precinct. As expected, he took it with annoyance.

  “There’s going to be a bodyguard? In our apartment? And they didn’t think to consult me? You didn’t think to consult me?”

  “It’s not really the kind of thing I can refuse,” Rosen replied, now checking her schedule. She had a lecture at her sister’s university at some point tomorrow, eleven or twelve… she was also supposed to be doing a short shift at the precinct in the evening.

  “You absolutely can,” James said. “They don’t get to order you around and place people on you like that.”

  “It’s for my protection. There’s been a spate of necromancer deaths,” Rosen said. “And they want to make sure their only necromancer on the task force doesn’t end up dead like the others.”

  “Hmm.” James grabbed his beer can and gulped from it—some blackcurrant cider or something like that. “Well, I don’t want that to happen to you, either. But seriously, can’t they just get him a hotel or something?”

  “No. Ruins the point of one, apparently, if I’m not protected twenty-four seven.” Rosen allowed some of her bitterness to seep to the surface. “I don’t want this either. He’s also arriving this evening, I think...”

  “Ah, damn,” James said, sliding himself off the sofa. “Better clean myself up, then.” He placed his empty can down and gave Rosen a suggestive examination of her body, now covered under a plain white shirt and black shorts. “Perhaps you’d like to join me…?”

  Rosen inwardly suppressed the urge to roll her eyelids, and allowed a smile to bloom upon her face instead. “Sure thing,” she said, taking his invite, knowing that she couldn’t keep coming up with excuses forever.

  Chapter Two – Albert

  He’d dressed himself up impeccably. Albert opted for a shirt that helped to show off the muscles he’d worked hard on, and also to instill some reassurance in the person he was meant to be guarding. Suits were too fancy, too impractical. Shirt and loose joggers were the way to go. Like he’d just come out of a gym.

  Taking one last comb back of his hair, and feeling a small ball of excitement well up in him at the prospect of meeting a necromancer working on the force, he double-checked the apartment number and pressed the buzzer.

  He glanced sideways, noting the good neighborhood, the garden courts, and children’s play obstacles scattered around. Not the kind of area where you expected trouble to occur. A good neighborhood, likely with a lot of children. Also probably meant his charge was planning to have children soon, likely already had a partner.

  Should be interesting, he thought, walking in when the buzzer sounded. And I need to tell them to check through the intercom next time. I could have been anyone. The panther inside him was stiff and curious about the new surroundings, and he’d have to give in to its urges later to s
take out the territory. Never paid to ignore the beast within for long.

  Finding the right apartment door, he knocked, and was greeted by a fairly handsome man with long, blond hair and truculent green eyes. Behind him was the charge. The necromancer. Instantly he felt a calm sense of purpose, a realization of the task given to him.

  One thing to see the charge in a picture, another to have them physically there. Quite a tall woman, dark hair with dark eyes, and a face set with purpose. It reminded him of his friend a little—the one who turned out to be a budding scientist and now worked exclusively in crime scene laboratories. Always with that internal sense of purpose.

  “You’re the bodyguard, eh?” said the man, rather aggressively. He also seemed to pull himself up, a conscious effort to make himself appear big and intimidating.

  “I am. My name is Albert Ortez. I’m here from Samhain Security Enterprises, in collaboration with Lasthearth Precinct to ensure the safety of one Miss Rosen Grieves.”

  The man said nothing, but continued to glare at him belligerently, before Rosen said from behind, “Do you have proof of I.D. and the contract?”

  “Yes.” Albert nodded approvingly at Rosen. He brought out his security I.D. and the consultant role the precinct had assigned to him when he visited in the late afternoon, finishing with the contract. Now inside the apartment, he decided to cut straight into his first criticism. “One thing. Who buzzed me in without checking on the intercom first?”

  A snort from Rosen and a raised eyebrow at the man told Albert all he needed to know.

  “I did,” the man said. “People buzz in all the time. I do it myself sometimes when I forget my key.” He took on a defensive tone.

  “I don’t care,” Albert said. “It’s a big security issue. Miss Grieves’ life can be at stake from something as small as this. Burglars use such a tactic to get into buildings. As do people with leaflets,” he added, without the hint of a smile.