“And you let him? Ronan . . .”
“He’s a Shifter going through his Transition. Scott wants to fight all the time these days—at the fight clubs, at least, the other Shifters let him work it off, and they take care of him.”
Elizabeth rubbed her forehead. “The more I learn about you, the more I realize I don’t know. I was right in the first place. You’re crazy.”
Ronan grinned, the warm one that lit his eyes. “Yeah, but crazy in a good way.”
“You take a big risk telling me this. You’ve told me a lot of things I could report to the human cops, you know. I wouldn’t, but why do you trust that I won’t?”
Ronan drew a finger along one of the red streaks in Elizabeth’s hair. “Because I know,” he said in his quiet voice. “You’re one of the good ones.”
Elizabeth’s body heated instantly at his touch. She thought of lying in the dark with him nearby all night, loving having him there. This was getting dangerous.
A whistle pierced the air, and Elizabeth, nerves frayed, jumped. “What was that?”
“Signal,” Ronan said, turning away. “Trackers have spotted something.”
Her fears returned. “What?”
Ronan looked out the tiny back window, scanning the alley. “Come on. Stay close to me.”
Ellison and Spike had stopped hammering and drilling and came into the office. Spike retained his hammer as he went to the back door and opened it.
Two Latino men, one about six foot, the other a head shorter, stood in front of a silver gray Lexus parked a yard from Elizabeth’s door. Both men wore dark suits on this late August day. They weren’t obviously armed, but the suit coats could hide anything. Both stood casually, alert but not hostile.
Spike went out first, then Ronan, with Elizabeth between Ronan and Ellison. As they emerged, three more Shifters entered the other end of the alley—Sean with his sword, a Shifter as tall as he who looked much like him, and an even taller Shifter male with his black hair buzzed short. The two human men saw the Shifters but didn’t change expression.
The taller of the men nodded at Elizabeth. “Elizabeth Chapman. I’m Pablo Marquez.”
Elizabeth had suspected as much. She said nothing.
“The incident with my brother has caused some problems,” Marquez said in a smooth voice. “He didn’t come here that night with my blessing. It was a stupid thing to do.”
Elizabeth still remained silent. She knew that a man like Marquez could twist anything she said into either capitulation or a threat, so it was best to stand quietly and let him talk.
“I’m taking care of Julio,” Marquez went on. “He knows how pissed off I am. But it leaves us with a little problem. He’s facing charges of armed robbery, and there are two witnesses. You and your Shifter.”
Ronan moved in front of Marquez and folded his arms. In spite of Marquez’s relative tallness, Ronan was twice his size.
Sean and the other two Shifters drifted toward them, but not in a clump. They spaced themselves out so the one with the black hair stayed at the opening of the alley, Sean stopped about halfway down, and the third man came to a stop right behind Marquez’s car.
“Your brother almost killed Elizabeth,” Ronan said. “That pisses me off too.”
Marquez looked up at Ronan’s nearly seven-foot height without fear. “You’re the Shifter who took him down?”
“I wasn’t out to kill him. I only meant to stop him.”
“I figured that,” Marquez said. “You’re a Shifter. If you’d wanted to kill him, Julio would be dead. But, see, he’s my brother. I don’t want him in prison. Not only would that be dangerous for him, it would be bad for business.”
Elizabeth understood his concern—there might be plenty in prison with a grudge against Marquez who would use his younger brother as an opportunistic target. But she only had so much sympathy.
“So, what are you saying?” she asked. “We can come to some sort of arrangement?”
“I want to make a deal, yes,” Marquez said. “Julio’s going to trial—he’s been released in my custody but he has a court date. Which he will keep. What I’m asking is for you not to show up. You and your sister close up shop and leave town, start over some other place. I’ll put the word out ahead that you’re not to be bothered. But you go, never come back to Austin, never talk to anyone about Julio and Pablo Marquez.”
“Leave?” Elizabeth started for him, but Ronan dodged in her way. His Collar emitted one spark. “I can’t leave,” Elizabeth said. “I worked my ass off for this store. I’m not moving my whole life because your little brother is out of control.”
“You haven’t heard the other half of my deal,” Marquez said, his hard voice breaking through hers. “You go and start again somewhere safe, or you have no life at all. Neither does your sister. I won’t bother trying to scare you or harass you, or any juvenile shit like that. You’re either alive in another city, or dead here. Nothing in between. I’ll give you three days to pack and shut down. Then you’re gone.”
Ronan leaned in to Marquez. “Here’s our counteroffer. You leave town, you let your brother go to prison for what he did, or your life will be a living hell. We’ll put word out ahead wherever you go that you shouldn’t be bothered, but you’ll be watched. You’re now on every Shifter’s shit list, which is someplace you don’t want to be.”
Marquez didn’t move. “You’re Shifters. You’re powerless. Shifters are executed for harming humans. You lay a finger on me, the whole bunch of you goes down. I don’t even have to ask for a hit. The cops will do it for me.”
“That’s our offer,” Ronan said. “If you want to get out of this alley alive, you’ll give us your answer.”
Marquez opened his coat to show that he had an automatic in his shoulder holster. “These sweeties will take you out quickly, leaving nothing but dead Shifters behind. You can’t move fast enough to dodge bullets, and your Collars mean you can’t attack me. So. I’ll leave you to make your decision, Ms. Chapman. I understand about family. For your sister’s sake, you’ll go.”
Elizabeth did not like the look of that weapon, but Ronan scarcely seemed to notice it. “Your answer,” he said.
Marquez’s hand drifted toward his gun, but—so swiftly Elizabeth didn’t see him move— the Shifter who resembled Sean was in front of Marquez, hand on Marquez’s wrist.
Marquez’s eyes widened as the Shifter put pressure on the wrist, and Elizabeth heard something crackle. Marquez’s man reached inside his coat, but Marquez shook his head, though his eyes were nearly bulging. The Shifter’s Collar didn’t so much as glint, and he said not a word.
Sean spoke without moving his position. “We’ll give you a day or two to think about it, lad. Then it’s best you go. We’ll make sure nothing happens to your brother inside. We know about family too.”
The Shifter kept his hold of Marquez’s wrist. Marquez looked up into his cold, cold eyes, and finally showed fear.
“Let him go, Dad,” Sean said.
The Shifter opened his hand and took a step back. He was very calm, every movement precise and practiced.
Marquez backed a step and cradled his wrist but he gave Elizabeth a cool stare. “You lost yourself a day,” he said. “Pack and go.”
The second man, who looked white about the mouth, opened the passenger side of the car and let in Marquez. Marquez didn’t look at the Shifters as the man went around to the driver’s seat, got in and started the Lexus, then slowly pulled forward. Ronan, Spike, Ellison, and the other Shifter moved so the car could pass, but they surrounded it to watch it go, hunters releasing their prey. Their choice. For now.
As soon as the car turned the corner onto the street, Sean joined them and said, “Nice one, Dad.”
Elizabeth rounded on them. “Nice one? Are you all insane? All he has to do is report that you threatened him. Criminal or not, you’re the ones who’ll pay—with your lives. Do me a favor, and don’t help me!”
Elizabeth’s rage and fear had ris
en to a breaking point, and all she could do was turn her back on the Shifters, storm inside, and slam the door.
CHAPTER 10
Ronan scented Elizabeth’s terror as she went, and vowed that Marquez would pay for every bad dream, every shiver of fear, and every tear he’d caused her.
Sean joined his father, whose eyes remained the light blue of his wildcat’s. “You scared him good, Dad,” Sean said. “But maybe put him on his guard? We don’t need a Shifter-human gang war.”
“We won’t have one.” Dylan Morrissey scanned the alley, aware that others could be watching, and started for the back door to Elizabeth’s store.
Ronan got ahead of him to walk inside first, but Elizabeth wasn’t in her office. Ronan heard the water running in the bathroom, and he left the others to approach her.
He’d lived with females long enough to know that if he knocked first, she’d tell him to go away and leave her alone, and he had no intention of doing that. Elizabeth hadn’t locked the door, however, and Ronan opened it to find a small bathroom decorated with rose trellis wallpaper and framed Victorian ads for soap and chocolates. The soft colors made the tiny room easy on the eyes and very feminine.
Elizabeth looked up at him through the reflection of the wooden framed mirror over the sink, her eyes red-rimmed, her face dripping.
“You okay?” Ronan asked.
A long time ago, he’d never had to worry about comforting crying females—crying anybody. But now he had to deal with Cherie with her PTSD, Rebecca’s PMS, and the terror dreams of the boys. He’d learned how to pet and hold until the shakes went away, how to gentle his voice to the merest rumble.
“No, I’m not okay,” Elizabeth said. “You can’t threaten Marquez like that. He’s right—he’ll have the cops down on you, or he’ll tell his boys with machine guns to wipe out all the Shifters. No one cares about Shifters.”
“That’s true,” Ronan said, leaning against the door frame. “No one, except Shifters. What do you plan to do, then? Leave town like he suggested?”
“No!” Elizabeth grabbed a fluffy towel and buried her face in it. When she emerged, her tears were gone. “No, I’m not letting him drive me out. I’ll call the cop who arrested Julio Marquez and tell her his brother is threatening me. Pablo Marquez will have a record—they can put a restraining order on him.”
“A restraining order will do nothing,” Dylan said from behind Ronan. “You need to let us take care of this.”
Elizabeth threw down the towel and pushed past Ronan to face Dylan. “Let you take care of it? What does that mean?” She looked up at the tall Shifter, meeting that white-blue stare without flinching.
Sean cleared his throat. “Ms. Chapman, let me introduce my dad, Dylan Morrissey.”
Elizabeth studied Dylan more closely, taking in the gray at his temples, his stern look that came with his years and experience. “Ah. I’ve heard about you.”
Dylan blinked, his eyes snapping back to human blue. Elizabeth’s I’ve heard about you spoke volumes. His mate, Glory, came into this store a lot, and Glory could be earthily frank. Dylan must be wondering what the hell kinds of things Glory had said.
“What I’ve heard is that you’re used to having your every order obeyed,” Elizabeth said, hands on hips. “But I’m not Shifter, and I don’t care. I’m keeping this store open. I’m grateful for your help, but I do not want you confronting Marquez. He’s dangerous, more dangerous than you are. I’ll find a solution. I haven’t survived this long by caving in to people like him.”
Sean and the other Shifters tensed, watching as Elizabeth, a puny human, stared down one of the top alphas in Shiftertown. Liam was leader now, yes, but Dylan was still plenty dominant.
Ronan went warm with pride. His potential mate had moxie.
She didn’t understand, though, that she and Dylan were talking about two different things. Elizabeth was thinking about her immediate future, keeping hold of the things for which she’d worked so hard. Dylan was considering the threat Marquez posed to Shifters in general, outside Marquez’s problem with Elizabeth. The situation had moved beyond the attempted robbery and into wider realms.
Dylan moved his gaze from Elizabeth to Ronan. “She’s your responsibility,” he said.
“I know that,” Ronan answered.
Dylan held Ronan with his gaze for a long moment, then he signaled to Sean and the other tracker—Nate—and the three of them departed. No good-byes, no saying where they were going. They simply went.
Elizabeth watched them go, hands still planted on her slim hips, then she swung to Spike and Ellison. “All right, then,” she growled. “That wall isn’t fixing itself. Let’s get back to work.”
***
Pablo Marquez employed the best lookouts in the city, but for some reason they totally missed the Shifters that materialized in his office that evening. One minute Pablo was going over his spreadsheets for the body shop; the next, he had three Shifters around his desk.
Pablo didn’t panic. He hadn’t gotten this far in life by panicking. He smoothly brought his hand out from under the desk, wrist now wrapped in an ace bandage, an automatic weapon nestled against his palm. He held the gun loosely, not pointing it or threatening with it. Shifters were dangerous, yes, but they weren’t immune to bullets.
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.”
Dark and Deadly: Eight Bad Boys of Paranormal Romance Page 9