Dark and Deadly: Eight Bad Boys of Paranormal Romance

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Dark and Deadly: Eight Bad Boys of Paranormal Romance Page 4

by Ashley Jennifer


  She could only do what she’d done all her life—sit tight, scope out the lay of the land, and decide what to do from there. Her eyes remained open as she thought over all this, but Mabel soon dropped off into innocent sleep, emitting faint, peaceful snores.

  ***

  Elizabeth left her room in the morning to the smell of coffee and bacon wafting up the stairs. Cherie was across the hall, leaning against the closed door of the one bathroom.

  “Come on, Scott, does anyone else get to use the bathroom today?”

  Scott’s voice roared back over running water. “I’m in the shower!”

  “You’ve been in the shower for half an hour. We have guests, you big idiot.”

  “I didn’t ask them here!”

  Cherie saw Elizabeth and rolled her eyes. “He’s in Transition. It’s like he can’t get himself clean enough, as if that’s going to make females fall all over him. There aren’t enough female Shifters in this Shiftertown anyway—he won’t have a chance to mate for years yet.”

  “Transition?”

  “From cub to adult,” Cherie said. “I hope I’m not this insensitive when it’s my turn.” She slapped her palm to the door. “Scott, would you quit hogging the bathroom?”

  “Go next door!” he shouted.

  “Males.” Cherie rolled her eyes again. She was pretty, with the deep, startling beauty that Rebecca had, hers not as fully developed yet. Cherie looked about twenty in human years, only a little younger than Mabel, but apparently, like Connor, she was still considered a cub.

  “Probably best you have breakfast first,” Cherie said. “If there’s any hot water left when he’s done, you and your sister can have dibs on the bathroom.”

  “Whatever works,” Elizabeth said, shrugging. You needed to establish territory fast in a foster home, but you also had to show that you were willing to be flexible with those who didn’t fight you. Besides, Elizabeth would be home soon, in her own bathroom.

  She went down the stairs. This was an old bungalow, likely built in the 1920s or 30s, laid out in a square with the staircase in the middle. It was pretty big, as far as bungalows went, to have four bedrooms and bath upstairs, a large kitchen, dining room, and living room downstairs.

  Elizabeth walked into the kitchen to find Rebecca setting seven places at the table and Ronan hunched over the stove in jeans and black T-shirt, cooking what had to be five packages of bacon and four cartons of eggs. An entire loaf of bread, toasted, was piled on a platter, and four more slices popped out of the toaster as she walked in.

  Ronan glanced up at her and gave her a wide smile, full of energy. “I do a mean biscuits-and-gravy, but I didn’t have time this morning. Scrambled okay with you?”

  “Fine.”

  Rebecca was giving Elizabeth a critical look. “You didn’t sleep, did you?”

  “Not really.”

  “Can’t blame you.”

  Rebecca was tall and leggy, but large, nothing willowy about her. She wore jeans and a sleeveless top and had pulled her curly hair into a ponytail. Like Ronan, she had a restless vitality, one that said she might wear human clothes and set the table with matching silverware, but she’d rather be out running through the woods as her bear.

  “Sit down, Elizabeth,” Ronan said. “We’ll fatten you up.”

  He piled the rest of the bacon and eggs on another platter and carried it and the toast to the table. Elizabeth stared at the mounds of food heading her way.

  “A slice of toast is fine with me,” she said.

  “Best thing for shock is a hearty meal.” Ronan stuck his spatula under the eggs and piled a load on her plate. “I’ve got some roasted red pepper salsa if that’s your thing, or good old-fashioned salt and pepper. Butter and jam for the bread, and best of all, honey. Bears like their honey.”

  Elizabeth wasn’t sure whether to laugh or keep it to herself. She settled for a polite thank you. Ronan turned away. “Any time, Lizzie-girl.”

  Cherie and Olaf appeared as though by magic as Ronan started ladling out the food. Mabel waltzed in a moment later, and Rebecca poured coffee. Mabel sucked down her coffee, closing her eyes in pure enjoyment. Mabel had never been much of an alcohol drinker, thank God, but she worshipped coffee.

  “Scott’s still in the shower,” Cherie said, in universal female derision for males who irritated them.

  “I’ll talk to him,” Ronan said. “Let him be, Cherie. The Transition is hard.”

  “I’m still getting over mine.” Rebecca sat down and shoveled as much food onto her plate as Ronan did onto his. No dieting in this house. “And with more and more males mate-claiming in this Shiftertown, the pickings are getting slim.”

  “Don’t complain, woman,” Ronan said. “There’s four males for every female around here. It’s me, Scott, and Olaf that will be going mateless. You can always hit on Ellison. He’s a party animal.”

  Rebecca snorted. “He’s a Lupine who’s too full of himself.”

  Ronan shrugged. “Well, if you’re going to be picky.”

  “What about Spike?” Mabel asked. She scooped up eggs hungrily. “He’s cute. All those tatts. And then Connor. Mmm.”

  “Connor’s a cub,” Cherie said, wrinkling her nose. “And a Feline. And a Morrissey. And did I mention a Feline?”

  “What does that mean?” Elizabeth asked as she ate. “A Feline?”

  “Means he turns into a wildcat,” Cherie answered. “His whole family does. Ellison is a Lupine, a wolf. Wolves are all conceited—think they’re noble creatures or something. We’re bears, which of course are the best Shifters.” She chortled.

  “Cool,” Mabel said. “Can I see you turn into a bear?”

  “No shifting at the table,” Ronan growled. “We have company, and I’m not cleaning up the mess.”

  Cherie winked at Mabel. “Later.”

  They were going to be BFFs any second, Elizabeth knew it. “We might not have time to do much visiting, Mabel,” she said, chewing on thick Texas toast which did taste good with butter and honey. “I have to get back to the store and clean it up before we open. I’m going to need your help. We open at eleven, and it’s already eight, so we need to get a move on.”

  Everyone at the table went quiet. The shower finally snapped off upstairs, adding to the silence.

  “Elizabeth, you’ll have to keep your store closed today,” Ronan said. “I talked to Liam after you went to bed, and he says things are bad for you. So until he and I can work them out, you’re staying here.”

  The entire table was looking at her. Cherie with her mottled hair, Rebecca with her even stare, Olaf with his wide black eyes. Only Mabel kept her gaze on her plate. Elizabeth, who’d learned the dynamics of a group home early in life, realized that as much as Rebecca and the others bantered with him, Ronan was the leader.

  Elizabeth pushed back her chair, wiped her mouth on a napkin, and got to her feet. She said to Ronan, “Can we talk outside, please?” and then walked out the back door into the morning heat without waiting to see if he’d follow.

  CHAPTER 5

  Ronan went after her without hesitation. There was nothing better than a cute female with the hottest ass he’d ever seen ordering him around.

  Behind him he heard Olaf say, a little fearfully, “Ronan . . . he will punish Lizbeth?”

  “No, sweetie,” Rebecca said. “But she might punish him.”

  The back door swung shut, cutting off Olaf’s reply.

  Elizabeth waited by her truck, arms folded. This morning she wore tight blue jeans and a little top that exposed both her navel and the tattoo on her collarbone. It was a butterfly. Nice.

  Ronan didn’t usually like small women, but decided he’d make an exception for Elizabeth, who was not tall but generously curved. Her smallness made him want to be gentle, although the fire in her eyes said she wasn’t about to be gentle with him. Rebecca had that right.

  “Let me explain something about the retail business,” Elizabeth said as soon as he was within earshot. Human
earshot—he could have heard her all the way in the kitchen, and he knew that his family was listening hard. “If your store closes unexpectedly, people think you’re not opening again, and they go away and don’t come back. I spent years building up this business, and it’s the only thing between me and Mabel and the wolf at the door. If I don’t open up, I don’t make money. In fact, I lose money, because I still have to pay for my inventory and the lease and taxes and everything else. So I’m not letting a full-of-himself kid with a gun stop me. I learned a long time ago that you can’t let yourself be a victim—or else you might as well crawl into a hole, block it up behind you, and stay there the rest of your life.”

  Elizabeth ran out of breath but not fire. Her blue eyes snapped and sparked. Ronan wondered how those eyes would look, blinking sleepily at him from the pillow next to his.

  “You done?” he asked.

  “I’m not going to argue about this, so don’t bother trying. I’m explaining, that’s all. I’m very grateful to you and Rebecca for putting us up. I’ll give you some cash for the food, but we’re out of here.”

  She tried to walk around Ronan back to the house. Cute. He stepped in front of her.

  “Now, let me explain, Lizzie-girl,” he said. “The kid who robbed you, Julio Marquez, is the brother of the leader of one of the hardest gangs in Houston. He’s now moved into Austin to try to take over here, and he’s decided that you need to be punished for getting his kid brother arrested. Plus, you’re the only witness to the crime, so if you are too dead to testify, so much the better. I’m a witness, but I’m a Shifter, so my testimony doesn’t count. Besides, the older Marquez and his crew would have to get to Shiftertown to off me, and they can’t. Which is why you’re safe here, and why you’re staying here until Liam, his trackers, and I make sure they understand that you’re off limits. Got it?”

  Elizabeth listened with her mouth open, fear at last showing in her eyes. “Are you talking about the Red Avenue gang?”

  “I think that’s what they’re called. You heard of them?”

  “I knew a guy whose brother was killed by one of them. Shot while he was walking his little sister home from school, because he owed them money. The leader’s name wasn’t Marquez, though.”

  “It is now. According to Sean, he took over not too long ago, and he wants to expand his enterprise. They’re into running drugs and guns up out of Mexico. They’re like a little army.”

  Elizabeth’s worried look intensified. “Shit.”

  “So, you aren’t going anywhere. Not while these guys are out to get you and your sister.”

  Ronan watched her battle her fear. She had resilience, he had to give her that. “This is exactly what I mean about not being a victim,” she said. “Mabel can stay here—I don’t want her getting mixed up in this. But I have to open my store. I have to keep going. If I let a gang close it, I’m done for. They won’t attack me in broad daylight, with all the other open stores around, and I can close up early. That won’t be a problem—I don’t get as much traffic at night. How’s that?”

  Ronan started shaking his head and kept on shaking it. “No, sweetie. I’m not taking a chance they won’t do a drive-by on you or something. You’re staying here.”

  Now she looked rebellious. The defiant lady who’d streaked her hair and knew how to pick pockets glared at him. “I’m not jeopardizing everything I’ve worked for to make you feel better.”

  “It’s to keep you safe!”

  “How safe am I in a houseful of Shifters? When one won’t even get out of the bathroom?”

  She wasn’t afraid of them, Ronan could tell. Cautious, yes, but not afraid.

  “A hell of a lot safer than you are out on the streets.”

  “But I’m not allowed to leave?” Elizabeth planted her hands on her hips. “There’s a saying, that those who give up freedom for safety don’t deserve either one. I don’t remember who said that—I missed a lot of school as a kid—but it was someone smart.”

  Ronan lifted his hands. “I get where you’re coming from. I really do understand. But damn it, I don’t want to see you hurt. I don’t want to see them try to burn down your store—with you inside it. When that guy pulled the gun on you last night . . . it seriously pissed me off.”

  “Well, it seriously pissed me off too. If they try to burn down the store, I can put out the fire faster if I’m there.”

  “Goddess, woman, I thought she-bears were stubborn.”

  Elizabeth fixed him with a steely stare. “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”

  Ronan wanted to laugh. Not only was she stubborn but crazy and brave. He knew right then that if he didn’t lock her into Rebecca’s bedroom, she’d light out for that store as soon as his back was turned. Even if Ronan did lock her in, Elizabeth would find a way out. She was that kind of girl.

  “All right.” Ronan forced his voice to come down from the frenzied arguing. “We’ll do it your way. Partly. Mabel stays here, and you go open your store. I come with you, and we have a couple trackers lurking around outside to keep an eye on things.”

  Elizabeth’s anger didn’t diminish. “Shifters lurking around my parking area all day will worry the other shop owners. What if they call the police?”

  “No one will see the trackers. They’re pretty good at stealth, when they want to be. And Shifters are at your store all the time. You’re one of the few who lets us in.”

  “They come in to shop. Not lurk. There’s a difference.”

  “Why don’t you ban Shifters? It’s your choice.”

  Elizabeth stopped, annoyed at the change in conversational direction. She obviously didn’t like her arguments interrupted. “Because I think laws banning Shifters are stupid. Why shouldn’t you be allowed to wear lame T-shirts like everyone else?”

  Ronan chuckled. “I’m keeping the Red-Hot Lover one. My point is, because you’ve been a friend to Shifters, Shifters are happy to look out for you when you need it. I’m putting you under my protection. I already have. All of Shiftertown knows that if anyone wants to mess with you, they mess with me first.”

  “All of Shiftertown?” Elizabeth regarded him skeptically. “Already knows this? We didn’t get here until late last night.”

  “Liam put the word out.”

  “At three in the morning?”

  Ronan shrugged. “I told you, Felines are nocturnal. By this morning, everyone knew. There’s not a Shifter within a hundred miles who’d want to go one-on-one with me, so they’ll help you but leave you alone. The Morrisseys outrank me, but that’s about it. And they like you too.”

  “They don’t know me.”

  “You’d be surprised what they know. You are safe here, and so is Mabel. Now, if you’re done arguing, let’s go open your store.”

  Ronan started to walk away. He’d learned that the best way to finish an altercation with females was simply to leave. They’d stand there and shout things at your back, but better that than having the argument go on and on and on.

  “There’s one big problem with you going with me,” came her voice behind him.

  Ronan turned. “What’s that?”

  Elizabeth had calmed down a little, but her eyes were still alight with determination. “The judge sentenced you to house arrest. You’re not supposed to leave Shiftertown at all, except to go to your job.”

  “Why don’t you let me worry about that? Now, are we going?”

  “You’re not. I get why you want to post the trackers outside my store to keep an eye out. That makes sense. But what happens when a cop comes by and sees you in there with me? Then I get arrested too, for aiding and abetting. I can’t run my store if I’m in jail.”

  “I said, let me worry about that.”

  “Forget it. Stay here and take care of Mabel, and your Spike guy with his tatts can watch out for the gang.”

  Ronan came back to her. “Here’s the deal, Lizzie-girl. I go with you, or you don’t go.”

  “Stop calling me Lizzie-girl.” She jabbed her finger
at his chest. “It’s my store, my life, my sister, and we’ll do this my— Hey! What are you doing?”

  Ronan had his giant hands on her soft waist, and he lifted her off her feet. She squirmed and glared, but he lifted her higher, higher, until she was over his head. He often picked up Olaf like this, and Elizabeth was not much bigger than the cub.

  “Ronan, you put me down!”

  “Nothing doing, sweet thing. Not until you realize that I’m your bodyguard now, and that’s all there is to that.”

  “You arrogant . . .”

  Ronan saw her hand coming at him, fingers stiff, right for his eyes. He ducked out of the way in time, but the move made him lose his hold. Elizabeth kicked out, not contacting him, but with enough force to twist from his grip and land on her feet. She never touched him, and yet, there she stood, a couple yards from him, hands on hips, breathing hard, triumph on her face.

  Ronan growled. “You fight dirty.”

  “I learned how to a long time ago.”

  “You know something, Lizzie-girl?”

  Elizabeth canted one hip . . . Aw, wasn’t that adorable? “What’s that?” she asked.

  “I fight dirty too.”

  Before Elizabeth could scream, Ronan ran at her and lifted her again, letting the momentum carry them forward until her back was against the outside wall of the Den. Ronan pinned her tightly, his body against hers, so that she couldn’t squirm, kick, or do any neat karate moves with her hands.

  Elizabeth struggled, and she glared, and the more she glared, the more Ronan wanted to laugh. She smelled sweet, like the honey she’d poured on her toast. One drop of that honey lingered on the corner of her mouth, and Ronan leaned down and licked it away.

  CHAPTER 6

  Elizabeth froze. She felt the moist heat of his mouth, the flick of his tongue, the warmth of his lips. He was strong, his hands on her waist attested to that, yet his touch on her mouth was everything that was gentle. Elizabeth hung in his grasp for a long moment before she returned the faintest of pressures.

  They were face to face, so close that Elizabeth saw the faint line of scar that laced from the corner of his cheekbone up the bridge of his nose. Where he’d broken it, she surmised.

 

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