Dios, would this night ever end?
Spike at last set Julio on his feet. “Well, then,” he said, another grin showing all his teeth, “we’d better get down there and stop him.”
The fight had grown bloody. Elizabeth watched, her throat tight with fear, as the wolf tore into Ronan, and Ronan tore into him in return. Blood coated the wolf’s fur and lay black against Ronan’s. Ronan’s Collar sizzled and sparked, but he wouldn’t stop fighting.
Eventually, though, the pain would overcome his adrenaline, and Ronan would collapse. When he did that, the wolf, unhampered by a Collar, would kill him.
Elizabeth had been aware of Spike, Dylan, and Sean retreating from the ring and disappearing into the crowd. But she couldn’t worry about where they’d gone. She kept her gaze on Ronan and the fight that might take him away from her.
No, no, no, a voice inside her wailed. Don’t lose him. Don’t. Lose. Him.
She had to stop this fight. But how could she? The four big Shifters Julio had brought in as refs were surrounding the ring, and the fifth ref watched them warily. Elizabeth wasn’t foolish enough to think she could jump in there between two raging Shifters trying to tear each other apart and hold up her hands for them to cease. Sure, they’d stop instantly.
The refs would grab her and throw her out before she could even reach them. The four Shifters weren’t letting anyone or anything interfere with this bout.
Ronan had the wolf under him. He drew back his paw, ready to knock him out, but the wolf suddenly wasn’t there. Ronan’s swing kept going, and Ronan, tired, fell.
The wolf pounced on him, mouth open, claws ripping. Ronan rolled onto his back and grabbed the wolf in a deadly embrace, but the wolf was too strong, too fast. He ripped at Ronan’s belly, Ronan bleeding from a dozen wounds at once.
Ronan roared his pain, his Collar white-hot. The wolf latched his jaw around Ronan’s throat and bit down. Blood sprayed, and Elizabeth screamed.
She ran for the ring, damn the rules and damn the refs. At the same time, the one referee who hadn’t come with Julio jumped in and tried to break up the fight. The other four grabbed him and nearly threw him out of the ring.
“What the hell are you doing?” the first ref yelled at them. “We have to stop it. The bear’s done!”
“The bear goes down,” one of the other refs growled. “It’s done when he’s dead.”
“That’s not what we . . .”
The four refs closed ranks and blocked the fifth from the ring. He swung around, boiling with fury, and took off into the crowd. Going for help, maybe, but would it come soon enough?
Elizabeth jumped up onto the circle of cinder blocks. The things had simply been laid on the ground, unattached, and they wobbled.
“Ronan!” she shouted, waving her arms to keep her balance. “Ronan, hang on!”
Ronan wasn’t giving up. He was fighting on, but his struggles were weakening, while the wolf held on, jaw locked around Ronan’s throat. If the wolf managed to tear Ronan’s jugular, Ronan would die.
Because of her. If he hadn’t been shopping in her store that night, Ronan wouldn’t be here now, fighting to the death to keep Elizabeth alive.
She had to stop this.
“Ronan!” Elizabeth screamed. She cupped her hands around her mouth. “I accept the mate-claim!”
She wasn’t sure what she expected—for him to suddenly burst upward, throw the wolf to the ground, shift, and sweep Elizabeth into his arms? She couldn’t be certain he’d even heard her. In any event, Ronan was too busy fighting to respond.
But Elizabeth needed to tell him, in case. Ronan was one of the good ones.
“Ronan!” she shouted. “I love you!”
Love you . . .
Elizabeth put her hands on top of her head as she watched him, the man she realized she loved, die.
Ronan felt the tingle of it through the agony of his Collar and the crazed biting of the wolf. He heard Elizabeth’s voice, though he couldn’t make out the words through the fog in his brain.
But he felt the magic. It wrapped around his heart and flowed through his limbs like heady wine.
The mate bond.
That sense of oneness with a true mate, which Ronan had never thought he’d feel—had started thinking himself fated never to feel it—threaded through his body and completed him. The click he’d felt when he’d first made the mate-claim now became music.
“Ronan!” he heard Elizabeth scream. “I love you!”
Like hell would he let himself die when the mate bond was filling him, while Elizabeth declared her love at the top of her voice in a barn full of Shifters.
She’d accepted the mate-claim in front of witnesses and given Ronan the greatest gift of his life. He had never heard the words, “I love you,” from another being. Liking, respect, comradeship, even affection. But never love.
Elizabeth was the first. And he loved her back with intensity that shattered all pain.
Fuck this.
Ronan gathered the last of his strength, wrapped the mate bond around it, and roared with sudden power as he rose up to his full Kodiak bear height. He ripped the wolf from his bleeding throat, lifted the crazed beast in both paws, and threw him as hard as he could.
The Lupine flipped end over end, howling, to land in a crowd of frenzied Shifters. Ronan swung around, great paws moving, contacting with the Shifter refs who’d sprung into the ring to stop him. The crowd moved back, some cheering; others, who’d bet on the wolf, booing and shouting.
The fifth ref, backed by Dylan and Ellison, stepped up on the cinderblocks on the far side of the ring. “The fight belongs to the bear!” the ref shouted. “Ronan, of the Austin Shiftertown . . . Winner!”
Screams and cheers from the Austin Shifters. Elizabeth was doing a little victory dance on the cinderblocks, her feet nimble in her high heels.
Ronan shuddered as he landed on all fours, his Collar’s sparks slowing but still hurting him. The mate bond, though—the mate bond was erasing the pain.
Before Ronan could reach Elizabeth, before he could shift and snatch her into his arms, a human male closed hands around Elizabeth’s waist, lifted her from her feet, and started to drag her away.
CHAPTER 16
Ronan barreled out of the ring after them. Elizabeth kicked and flailed, the man holding her in a practiced lock. He had a gun obviously in his holster—he must have gotten past the weapons check at the door.
Where the hell was Sean? Nowhere, though Dylan and Ellison had started charging to Elizabeth’s rescue. Too late. The man got her out of the barn, Elizabeth still fighting him.
Ronan passed the unconscious feral Lupine surrounded by a circle of Shifters, firelight from one of the barrels flickering eerily over the scene. There Sean was, kneeling beside the wolf, a shiny new Collar dangling from his hand.
Ronan burst out into the night. He hurt—Goddess, he hurt—but he was not letting that bastard take Elizabeth away.
He came upon them suddenly in the darkness, Elizabeth fighting her way out of the man’s grasp.
“Zach,” Ronan heard Elizabeth say, and then Zach’s body was spinning, flying to the ground, as Ronan’s paw smacked him.
“Ronan, don’t kill him,” Elizabeth said in alarm.
Why the hell not?
The human part of Ronan’s brain, a voice far in the background, reminded him that Shifters were executed for harming humans. The Shifter that was Ronan only saw someone threatening his mate, and that meant no mercy.
Zach took the split second of Ronan’s thought process to get to his feet, blood on his face. He reached for his gun, found his holster inexplicably empty, and ran. Ronan roared and ran after him.
He heard others coming behind, Elizabeth’s voice holding fear, Spike and Ellison trying to get Ronan to stop. Ronan only smelled his prey, the man who’d dared put his hands on Elizabeth, the man who’d caused her to live for years in terror. This man would die tonight for touching Elizabeth—my mate—for daring to come anywhere near her
.
Ronan caught up to Zach in a little clearing in the trees. Zach had no backup weapon, it seemed, because he’d grabbed a fallen branch and tried to use it as a club as Ronan came at him.
Ronan rose, rage and the mate bond giving him glorious strength. He roared his Kodiak bear fury, shifting as he came down to the terrified man.
Zach’s face was pale in the moonlight as he faced a blood-streaked giant of a man with madness in his eyes. “Who the hell are you?” he croaked.
“Her bodyguard,” Ronan said, and raised both fists to strike him down.
There was a boom, an acrid smell of gunfire, and the hot scent of blood. Zack looked down in surprise at his right side, which now blossomed a large red stain. Zach touched the wound, then his eyes rolled back. His body collapsed into the mud, and he lay still.
Ronan roared in fury, his Collar sparking, as he swung to face Pablo Marquez, standing calmly by, a black nine-millimeter in his left hand, right wrist in a bandage.
“That was my kill,” Ronan snarled. “Mine as mate.”
Pablo tucked his gun into the holster under his coat. “No, my friend. I am a cold-blooded killer. You are not.”
Ronan’s mate-frenzied bloodlust made him want to rip into Pablo for interfering with his vengeance, but pain from his Collar, the heady feeling of the mate bond, and Ronan’s own common sense stopped him. Better still was Elizabeth running into him, throwing her arms around him, no matter how bloody he was, and pulling him close. Distractedly he saw Pablo relieve her of the big pistol she seemed to have acquired, but he decided to worry about that detail later.
His Collar stopped sparking and winked out.
“Ronan, you stupid, stupid . . .” Elizabeth’s words gave out, and she simply hung onto him.
Ronan gathered her against him. He didn’t care that he was naked, her enemy dead at her feet, with other Shifters and a human looking on. This was his moment with Elizabeth, when the mate bond in him connected to the mate of his heart.
“I love you, Ronan,” she was sobbing.
Ronan kissed her hair, nuzzling the red streaks in it that he adored. “Love you, Lizzie-girl,” he said. “My mate.”
Pablo also offered to dispose of the body. He gave Elizabeth an amused look as he checked over the Sig Elizabeth had lifted from Zach’s holster in her struggle with him. “Remind me not to let you get close to me,” he said as he unloaded the weapon and handed it to one of his seconds. “You have a gift. If you ever need a job . . .”
“No,” Elizabeth said decidedly, and let Ronan lead her from the grisly scene. Julio Marquez was gone—who knew where, and Elizabeth didn’t want to ask. She had no doubt that Pablo would gleefully claim that Zach Casey’s territory was now his. He was not the kind of man who did favors without thought of personal gain.
By the time they reached the barn again, Ronan was staggering, and he collapsed at the same time Ellison broke out of the crowd with a Shifter medic behind him.
Ronan was in incredible pain, Elizabeth saw. He’d lost a lot of blood, his body torn where the wolf had clawed and bitten him, his neck bruised and blackened from the Collar’s abuse. He needed a hospital, but the Shifters weren’t about to take him there.
The medic cleaned the wounds and then ordered Ronan to change back into a bear, a form in which he’d have more strength for healing. Ronan groaned as he shifted, and three Shifters had to help him climb into the bed of Ellison’s pickup. Ronan looked for Elizabeth, his gaze betraying so much pain that she climbed into the truck with him.
Ellison and Spike lifted a blue tarp over the pickup’s bed and began to tie it down.
“Hey!” Elizabeth called. “Suffocate us, why don’t you?”
Ellison pulled a rope tight. “All loads in Austin have to be tarped, and he qualifies as a load. Besides, I don’t want cops wondering why I’m driving around with an injured Kodiak in the back of my truck.”
Elizabeth understood his point. They positioned the tarp so that Elizabeth and Ronan had plenty of airflow, their skill telling her they’d done this before.
The tented truck bed was warm in the night, Elizabeth cuddling against her bear. Elizabeth held on to Ronan as the pickup bumped down the long dirt track, Ronan grunting in pain every time the truck hit a rut on the washboard road.
Elizabeth held Ronan close and buried her face in his fur. He smelled of blood but also of warmth and himself. She’d fallen hard in love with him, but that was not so surprising, she thought as she stroked him. Ronan had helped her at every turn and never asked anything of her. He never did, from anyone.
She was quietly crying by the time Ellison pulled up at Ronan’s house and shut off the engine. Rebecca came running out as Ellison untied the tarp, Cherie, Mabel, and Olaf following. Mabel pulled Elizabeth into an embrace while Rebecca helped Spike and Ellison get Ronan out of the truck. Rebecca instructed them to put him in the Den—there was a big bed there, she said, and they wouldn’t have to try to get him upstairs.
Ronan shifted back to human as he came to his feet. He tried to stagger inside on his own, but Ellison and Spike ended up half-dragging him between them.
Ronan groaned as he hit the bed. His face was wan from too much blood loss, the bite and claw marks again oozing blood. His breathing was shallow, his pulse too rapid.
Elizabeth and Rebecca covered him, and Rebecca brought out bandages and antiseptic. But who knew what was going on internally, or what damage the shocks from the Collar had done?
“He needs a hospital,” Elizabeth said.
Rebecca shook her head. “The human medical world still hasn’t figured out Shifters. They might kill him trying the wrong thing.”
“We have to do something . . .”
Elizabeth broke off as the door darkened and Sean Morrissey strode in, the Sword of the Guardian on his back. Both Rebecca and Cherie jumped to their feet, eyeing Sean with similar looks of terror.
“No, Sean, not yet,” Rebecca said, pleading. “We don’t need the sword yet.”
“I know that, lass,” Sean said. “But you do need my mate.”
Andrea stepped inside, her pregnancy evident behind her loose, light shirt. Without a word, Andrea came to Elizabeth, gave her a brief hug, and then sat on the bed next to Ronan. In silence, she peeled back the sheet, laid her hands on Ronan’s bare chest, bowed her head, and closed her eyes.
She stayed in that position for a time, unmoving except for her brows drawing together in concentration. Cherie buried her face in Rebecca’s shoulder. Mabel, next to Elizabeth, squeezed her hand. Olaf said, in his loud, child’s voice, “Ronan will die?”
“No, lad,” Sean said. “Not tonight.”
The sword on Sean’s back emitted a soft ting. Elizabeth’s gaze went to it, but the others in the room didn’t seem to notice. Maybe it was supposed to do that.
Andrea drew a long breath. Then, to Elizabeth’s amazement, the big cuts on Ronan’s throat started to close. As she watched, the wounds narrowed, dried, and fused, leaving long scabs in place of the chewed and serrated flesh.
The bruises and cuts on Ronan’s face and around his Collar started to fade, and Ronan’s breathing eased. After a long time, he let out a sigh and opened his eyes.
He looked around at the people who encircled his bed—his family, Elizabeth and Mabel, Sean and Andrea, Spike and Ellison—and he flinched. “Oh, this is embarrassing.”
“Better embarrassed than dead,” Andrea said, patting his arm. “Stop doing this, Ronan. I’m getting tired of patching you up.” She started to rise, then winced and put her hand on her distended abdomen.
Sean was at her side. “All right, love?”
“Fine.” Andrea rubbed her belly. “There’s a lot of kicking going on down there. I think she wanted to help me and was mad that she couldn’t.”
“Oh, can I feel?” Mabel asked brightly. “I love babies.”
Andrea let Mabel place her hands on her stomach, while Sean looked on, both fond and protective.
“Hey
, what about me?” Ronan asked. “I’m the fallen hero, here.”
“You are going to be fine,” Andrea said. “You’re good inside; the wounds are only surface ones, thanks to your thick bear fur. You’ll have one hell of a hangover, but that’s your own fault for agreeing to fight a feral.”
“A fight I won, woman. You should have seen the other guy. What happened to him, by the way, Sean?”
“He’s with Dad,” Sean said. “For now. Dad will take him to Liam for debriefing in the morning.”
“Poor bastard,” Ronan said. “Better him than me.”
Everyone started talking, weighing in with opinions about the fight or the feral, or asking for details about it. Elizabeth strode into the middle of the group.
“Out. Everybody, out. Ronan needs to rest.”
Instead of arguing, they obeyed, to her surprise—instantly, quietly, and quickly. Mabel was the last to go. She paused to hug Elizabeth.
“Congratulations, you two. I knew you were up to nookie in here last night. I’ll have a Shifter for a brother-in-law. That is so cool.”
Another squeeze, a wave to Ronan, and Mabel banged out the door.
Elizabeth came to the bed. She started to sit at Ronan’s side, then gave in to her emotions and lay down next to him, wanting his arms around her.
“News travels fast,” she said. “Mabel wasn’t at the fight—at least, she’d better not have been. How does she know what happened with the mate-claim?”
“All of Shiftertown knows, love.” Ronan ran a bandaged hand through her hair. “Half of them heard you stand up and declare that you accepted me, and you’d better bet half of them got on their cell phones right away to spread the word. Matings are a big deal around here. Shifters love them, and they love to gossip. ‘Course, now Liam knows everything too. He’s not going to let me hear the end of it.”
“Tell him to get in line.” Elizabeth lost the rigidity that had been holding her up all night. “You almost died tonight. Damn you, Ronan. And don’t tell me everything’s all right, because you won. You almost didn’t win.”
BodyGuard (Butterscotch Martini Shots Book 2) Page 15