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BodyGuard (Butterscotch Martini Shots Book 2)

Page 10

by Jennifer Ashley


  The one with the terrifying eyes was there, but as he’d done in the alley, he remained silent. The guy with the sword, obviously the Shifter’s son, stepped in front of the desk, putting himself directly in front of Pablo’s gun. Ballsy of him. The third Shifter, the one with the military-cut black hair, watched the door with seeming negligence. He was chewing gum, a trick for indicating contempt and lack of fear.

  Pablo made the opening sally. “I said all I had to say. If you try to force me to leave with you, you’ll walk into twenty of my boys with pistols, ready to take you down. You’re not like werewolves who die only by silver bullets. Lots of lead will do the trick.” He lounged back in his chair, relaxed. No need to chew gum to prove it. “You’re in my territory now.”

  “Not quite.” The guy with the sword—Sean Morrissey—Pablo had looked him up—rested big hands on the desk. “You are in our territory. Shifter territory.”

  “Shifters live in Shiftertowns,” Pablo said. “That’s all the territory you get.”

  His father—Dylan, the guy’s name was—finally spoke. His voice was a little different from his son’s, as cold and hard, yes, but with vast stillness behind it. This was a man who’d seen much, done much, suffered more than Pablo’s group of hardened thugs could imagine. What Pablo wouldn’t give to have this man as a resource.

  “The entire city is Shifter territory,” Dylan was saying. “Our lands run from San Marcos to north and west of the lake. Hill Country Shifters take over from there.”

  Pablo barked a laugh. “In your Shifter dreams. Trust me, I’m not a guy who likes to follow other people’s rules. I do what I want and deal with what I have to. I also think the humans who have basically neutered you are amazingly stupid. They could have used you to help them fight wars or to put down people like me, but you know governments. Full of people who can’t get real jobs. But they slapped those Collars on you and pretty much broke whatever power you had, although from what I can tell it wasn’t very much to begin with. You have no territory, my friends. You have nothing.”

  None of the Shifters moved during his speech. No scorn, no anger, no conceding that he might be right. Nothing but three pairs of Shifter eyes fixed on him.

  To keep them from overwhelming him, Pablo sorted them out. Sean and Dylan were father and son. The big sword Sean wore wasn’t for killing, Pablo had learned, but for some sort of death ritual, the blade stuck into the Shifter after he was dead.

  The guy with the military haircut Pablo had seen at the very illegal Shifter fight clubs where Shifters fought each other for fun and other people bet on them. The guy’s name was Nate, and his friend Spike, the one with all the tattoos, was a very popular fighter.

  “What do you want, boys?” Pablo asked. “To bargain? I’m afraid I hold all the bargaining chips.”

  The one called Sean leaned his fists on the desk. The wood, a nice mahogany, creaked.

  “I’m afraid Dad wants you out, lad. The fact that he came down here to ask you nicely is unusual. My advice to you? Move your enterprise to another city. Ronan told you, we’ll inform the Shifters around wherever you choose to go to leave you alone—if you behave yourself, that is.”

  “We’ve done this dance,” Pablo said. “Your threat doesn’t have teeth . . . so to speak.”

  “That’s because we don’t like to show our hand too soon. You, my good friend—well, you don’t know what you’re up against. My dad there, he’s not such a reasonable man. I am. That’s why they always send me to negotiate.”

  “But I’m not negotiating anything,” Pablo said.

  Sean gave him a smile. Why did Pablo think of a cat drawing back its lips to show its teeth? “Well, that’s fine, because we’re not negotiating, either,” Sean said. “The truth is, lad, if you don’t go now, there’ll be nothing left for you.”

  “Nothing left of what?” Always difficult to guard against vague threats. Vague threats made everyone paranoid and sleepless. Pablo knew that because he often employed the technique himself.

  Sean shrugged. “Of anything. You, this nice building, your boys outside, your fine car. All gone.” He leaned closer. “In the blink of an eye.”

  Pablo moved his gun slightly, reminding Sean that it was there. “And if I mow you down before you can leave?”

  “Won’t matter. My brother, now, he’s the vindictive one. My dad’s learned to control himself a bit, but we’re not so sure about Liam. And we all have family that wouldn’t be too happy with you if anything happened to us.”

  Pablo made sure his finger was obviously off the trigger. “I’ve been in this game a long time, Shifter. There’s always someone out there with a vendetta. I don’t let it worry me.”

  “Son,” Sean said, in an almost kind voice. “You wouldn’t have time to let it worry you.”

  Pablo was not blind to the fact that these guys were serious. Somehow, they’d gotten past his guards. He had no doubt that if he killed them, three more Shifters would visit him in the night. Collars or no Collars, laws or no laws, they knew their stuff.

  He took his hand all the way off the gun and pushed it aside, leaving it close enough to grab if he needed to, but showing that he’d be happy to settle this without violence. Which he was. Julio had been stupid, and even Pablo hadn’t realized that the bitch had the entire Austin Shiftertown backing her up. Julio so needed to learn to do his research first.

  Pablo had been researching Elizabeth Chapman ever since Julio had gotten himself arrested for trying to rob her. He’d run into difficulty trying to discover specifics about her past, but he’d find out. He was very close.

  “I don’t have time for a war,” Pablo said in a reasonable tone. “And I’m thinking neither do you. My brother is an idiot, but I have some good lawyers, and maybe I can get him out of this. But it will be bad for my business if your friends insist on testifying.”

  “Your business really isn’t our concern,” Sean said. “Don’t you sell drugs and hurt people? Not a business we want in our town.”

  Pablo’s business was a little more sophisticated than that, but he wasn’t going to argue the point.

  “How about this?” he asked. “Your friend gets a little forgetful in the witness box, my lawyers help my brother, and we call it quits? Your friend stays in her business in SoCo, I stay in mine here, and we never see each other again.”

  The Shifters said nothing. They didn’t look at one another, but Pablo got the feeling they were discussing it amongst themselves, with that nonverbal communication animals were supposed to have.

  The one called Dylan was the first to speak. “We want you out of our town, Pablo Marquez. And you’ll go.”

  He looked straight into Pablo’s eyes. Pablo, having grown up in the back streets of almost every city in the south, had learned to meet his opponent’s challenging stare and then look away casually, almost derisively, as though he wasn’t concerned about winning the staring contest.

  But he couldn’t look away from Dylan. Pablo wanted to, but Dylan’s blue-white stare would not let him go. He saw, behind Dylan, Sean relaxed, unworried. They had no doubt that Pablo would obey Dylan—if not now, then eventually.

  “Why don’t you go on out of here?” Pablo said, pretending nonchalance. “I’ll make sure my boys don’t get trigger happy so you make it to your car. But I can’t guarantee it, so watch yourselves.”

  The Shifters didn’t like being dismissed. Well, too bad. Pablo wasn’t going to wet himself for them. He had his own plans. The next time they met, he wouldn’t be caught so unprepared.

  They faded away. Pablo wasn’t sure how they did it, but one minute the three Shifters were in the shadows of his office; the next, they were gone.

  He snapped an order to the man who was supposed to guard the door and got no response. Gun in hand, Pablo made his way to the front door and peered outside. The darkening street showed no one, not his guards, not retreating Shifters, not the mechanics who ostensibly worked in his body shop. All was silence, but for the few bits
of trash that drifted across the pavement on a hot Texas wind.

  CHAPTER 11

  The bar Liam managed opened for business that night, but none of the Shifters went to work. Ronan explained that the human government had ruled that Shifters did not have to work on Sundays, a concession to the Shifters’ request that they be able to continue their religious observances after taking the Collars. Ronan related this with a laugh, because, he said, Shifters didn’t have a designated religious day or a set time for prayer. All days were religious to them; any time and place fine for meditation and prayer.

  An interesting take on the matter, Elizabeth thought.

  Apparently Shifters used the day off to build bonfires in the common land between the backs of their houses, cook out, and let the kids run around in both human and animal form.

  Sean Morrissey, minus sword and in a plain T-shirt, was grilling alongside his brother Liam, the two of them arguing about how best to cook the steaks. Ellison and the trackers lounged nearby, beers in hand, though Spike with his black eye wasn’t getting too close to Liam.

  Cherie and Mabel were laughing together in the age-old manner of twenty-something girls aware that men eyed them, but not deigning to notice. Olaf romped around in his bear cub form with wolf cubs and wildcat cubs.

  The tall, blonde Glory sat on her porch, long legs crossed, in a tight, leopard-print pantsuit, not far from Dylan, who quietly drank beer from a dark bottle. With them were Kim and little Katriona and the pregnant Andrea.

  Elizabeth eyed them a little shyly. They were all so comfortable with each other, including Kim, who was human, an outsider. Mabel carried on as though she’d lived here all her life, but then, that was Mabel. Elizabeth had always been the cautious one.

  Ronan moved close to her. “I know.”

  Elizabeth looked up in surprise. “Know what?”

  He motioned to the scene around them. “It’s overwhelming. You don’t know who to get close to, who to talk to. You want to be accepted, but it’s a little scary with all those eyes looking at you. You don’t want to say the wrong thing to the wrong person.”

  “Exactly. Are you reading my mind or something?”

  “Your body language.” Ronan’s warm hand rested on the small of her back. “And it’s how I felt when I first moved in.”

  “You?” Elizabeth studied the towering man, with his round, tight shoulders in his T-shirt. “You were shy?”

  “I’d lived by myself in the Alaskan woods all my life. Most of my life, anyway. Then I was shoved into a Shiftertown with all these wolves and wildcats who stared at me all the time. I’m a big guy, and that makes it worse.”

  “You stand out.” Elizabeth snaked her arm around his waist. “Hard to miss.”

  “You got that right.”

  “And then you adopted a bunch of cubs.” She shook her head in mock dismay as they strolled away from Glory’s house. “What were you thinking?”

  “I ask myself that sometimes.”

  Elizabeth hooked her fingers through his belt loop, liking how the loop seemed to be made for her fingers. “So where do you go when you want to be alone? Really alone?”

  “Around here? It’s tough. I’ve got the Den, but that’s always being invaded. But there are some caves out west of town, down on the riverbank. Not many people know about them. I go out there, sometimes. Not the same as the deep woods, but it can be peaceful.”

  “Sounds nice,” Elizabeth said wistfully. “I never have time to go to places like that.”

  “I’ll take you. You’ll make time.”

  “Then you won’t be by yourself. I thought that was the point.”

  They’d cleared the crowd and were now relatively isolated under tall Texas oak trees. Ronan stopped. “I won’t mind being alone there with you.”

  Elizabeth let go of his belt loop and turned to face him. It felt right to put her hands on his waist, to feel the warmth of his big body through her fingertips.

  Ronan’s eyes went dark. “I’m going to kiss you, Elizabeth,” he said, a growl in his voice. “I’ve been dying to kiss you all day.”

  “Yeah? What stopped you?”

  “Human gang leaders and too many nosy Shifters.”

  “There aren’t any around right now.” Trees screened them from the Shifter gathering and the bonfires’ glows.

  For answer, Ronan leaned to her, his breath touching her mouth, his lips following. He kissed her softly, as though afraid he’d break her, all the while holding her with hands so strong.

  Elizabeth pushed up on tiptoes to reach him. “You’re so tall,” she whispered. “Can’t you shrink a little?”

  Ronan’s smile warmed his eyes as he slid his arm behind her buttocks and lifted her off her feet.

  He held her securely in powerful arms, his chest like a wall. Elizabeth wrapped her legs around his waist, arms around his back. Much, much better.

  They were face to face. Ronan brushed his lips to the corner of her mouth, then licked there. “I’m not used to kissing humans,” he said. “Hell, I don’t kiss many Shifters. I don’t want to hurt you,” he finished, brow furrowing.

  She nuzzled his cheek, liking the roughness of his whiskers. She kissed his nose where it had been broken. “I’m pretty resilient.”

  He lost his smile. “No, you’re not. You’re so vulnerable. Elizabeth, I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “For not killing that idiot with the gun and then taking you back to Alaska with me. It’s beautiful there. I had a cabin in the woods, right next to this stream that roars all the time—even in the winter you can hear it gurgling under the ice. It’s an amazing place. You’d love it.”

  “But they forced you out, didn’t they?” Elizabeth asked softly. “That’s why you’re here.”

  “I got rounded up when Shifters were outed twenty years ago. A couple of people knew there was a Shifter living back in the woods, and one told the police.” He sighed. “I’d counted them as friends, but one sniff of a reward for Shifters . . .”

  “I’m so sorry.” Elizabeth’s fury rose for whoever had betrayed him. She remembered the witch hunts for Shifters twenty years ago, though she’d been only a kid at the time, with too many problems of her own to pay much attention. When humans had realized that shapeshifters were real and living among them, they’d reacted with paranoia. Instead of trying to understand the Shifters, they’d rounded them up, killed some, done experiments on others, confined them, slapped Collars on them to control their violence, and heavily restricted them. Only because of the actions of some equal rights groups were Shifters allowed to live at all.

  How anyone could have handed over this wonderful, warmhearted man to be locked away, far from his home, Elizabeth didn’t understand. Ronan craved solitude but gladly gave it up to help those in need, with no other incentive than he felt bad for them. She’d learned, the hard way, the difference between people who practiced charity to look good and the people who were truly caring.

  “I told you, Ronan,” she said. “You’re one of the good ones.”

  “Aw. Bet you say that to all the bears.”

  “Just the big wrestler ones I want to kiss.”

  “Shut up and kiss me, then.”

  Ronan held her in arms that never moved as their mouths met, touched, explored. Elizabeth’s body heated, and her limbs relaxed with longing.

  She wanted to be alone with him, and she wanted to make love to him.

  The thought stunned her. Elizabeth broke the kiss, her face an inch from his, their breaths tangling. But then, maybe it wasn’t so astonishing. She wanted to be alone with him, so see his body bare for her, to feel his weight on her as he made love to her. Ronan made a noise like a growl, his eyes holding a hunger that matched her own.

  They heard the kids playing, Olaf’s small roar as he ran with the other cubs, Rebecca admonishing, “Stay close to the porch, Olaf.”

  Ronan touched his forehead to hers. “No one will be at the house,” he said.

 
; Elizabeth nodded, her need for him overwhelming. Ronan unlocked her legs from around him and slid her to her feet. She felt the hardness of him on the way down, and her eyes widened. Ronan was a big guy, and she’d heard rumors about Shifters. Knowing she’d soon see whether they were true made her shiver in excitement.

  They walked away from the crowd, hand in hand, Elizabeth’s heart beating in time with their swift pace. She liked this, the two of them wanting the same thing, united in their unspoken longing. They needed privacy for it, but they also knew that they could return to friends and family anytime they liked.

  Ronan’s house was dark, but he didn’t take Elizabeth inside. Instead, he led her down the side path to the Den.

  When he turned on the light, Elizabeth saw that this was a decidedly masculine hangout. The big room contained a television, kitchenette with a big refrigerator—probably well-stocked with beer—shelves stacked with games, a couple of card tables, and a gigantic bed covered with an equally gigantic quilt.

  Ronan swept up Elizabeth and carried her, romance-style, to the bed. He followed her down to the mattress and lay on his side next to her, eyes dark. He ran his hand down her arm, ending by cradling her hip.

  “I thought it was the mate-claim making me crazy,” he said. “Starting the mating frenzy. But it’s just you.” He released her hip and trailed his fingers up her torso, between her breasts. “You’re amazing. And I want to see that tattoo.”

  He hooked his fingers on the neckline of her shirt, pulling it down a little to bare the butterfly that ran along her collarbone. Elizabeth stilled under Ronan’s touch, loving the warm need that filled her, a kind she’d never felt before. She wanted to wrap herself around him and pull him down to her, kiss him until her cravings were fulfilled. But she remained motionless, marveling in the light brush of his fingertips on her skin.

  Ronan traced the butterfly once with his fingers, then leaned down and traced it with his tongue. Elizabeth closed her eyes, body loosening, surrendering.

  A crazed roar had her nearly flying up out of the bed, her tension returning in a rush. Ronan swung his legs around and came to his feet faster than Elizabeth would have guessed such a big man could move.

 

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