Bodyguard, Page 3

  "Whatever." Ronan held out his hand. "Keys."

  "What? No. It's not like I'm drunk." Yet.

  "After the night you've had? Nope. I'm driving you. "

  Elizabeth felt sick and stretched, her head ached, and her eyes felt hollow. She needed about a gallon of water and then one of coffee, a long bath, a hot toddy, and a really good night's sleep. After she made sure Mabel was safe.

  "Fine." She dropped the keys into Ronan's hand.

  "Cool." He snapped his fingers around them. "I've always wanted to drive one of these little pickups. Don't tell anyone."

  The Harley roared to life. Liam lifted his hand and so did Kim, then Liam pulled out into the night. Kim, helmeted, leaned into Liam's back, as though she loved him body and soul. A human and a Shifter. What a crazy night.

  Ronan opened the passenger door and got Elizabeth inside. "I'm supposed to like muscle cars. Strongman, macho cars." He shut her door and went around to the driver's side. He barely fit behind the wheel and had to slide the seat all the way back. "Monster trucks. Bad-ass motorcycles. Anything big and chunky that makes a lot of noise. Nothing cute and girlie. So keep this quiet. Deal?"

  Now he was making her laugh. "Your secret is safe with me."

  Not that Ronan could ever be mistaken for cute and girlie. He was huge but solid, like a pro wrestler, tall but perfectly proportional. His face wasn't exactly handsome--too hard for that, and he'd had his nose and right cheekbone broken at some time in his past. But his face was striking. His eyes were dark brown, almost black, but not cold. They were warm, very warm.

  Ronan started up the truck and peeled out of the parking. Elizabeth held on as he raced around a corner and pulled onto Seventh heading due east.

  Elizabeth wanted to talk to Mabel, to reassure her sister that she was on her way home. She reached for her phone and found an empty place on her belt. "Oh, crap. Liam still has my cell phone."

  "Not surprised. Liam likes gadgets. He'll give it back to you when he's done with it."

  "Doesn't he have his own?"

  "Sure, but Shifters don't get to have fancy smart phones. Our phones call and hang up, that's it. I bet he's texting every human he knows, or playing games, or taking pictures. He's like a cub when he gets a new gadget in his hand. But I'll make him give it back."

  Ronan drove through the sparse traffic as he spoke, flashed under the I-35, and sped on in entirely the opposite direction from Elizabeth's house.

  "Where are you going?" she asked. "I live northwest of downtown."

  "You're not going home," Ronan said, gripping the wheel as he spun the truck around another corner.

  "I'm not?" Her trepidation returned. "Why not?"

  Ronan looked over at her and grinned. It was a warm grin, making his eyes twinkle. "Because I'm taking you to my home, Elizabeth Chapman. Shiftertown."

  * * * * *

  Chapter Four

  Ronan felt Elizabeth's fear pouring off her as they neared the streets of Shiftertown. But there was nothing frightening about Shiftertown--at least, not these days.

  When Ronan had first arrived from Alaska, though, he'd been scared as hell. Bears liked solitude, and Ronan had never lived near more than one or two people at a time in his life. In Shiftertown, scores of Shifters surrounded him, always. And then the human government had told him he had to let other bears live in the same house with him.

  Ronan's shyness had nearly killed him. Learning to survive the discomfort of being in a crowd, training himself to not react--either by running away or driving the others off--had been the hardest thing Ronan had done. People who derided shyness, or called it self-centeredness, didn't understand it. Shyness was instinct. In the wild, the need for personal space--a lot of personal space--could spell the difference between survival and death.

  But Ronan had conquered his fear long ago, thank the Goddess. Now Ronan knew everyone, and everyone knew Ronan, and he'd carved out his own place in this strange, new world.

  Ronan drove around a dark corner that contained a derelict convenience store and headed into Shiftertown. Beyond an empty lot, which was purposely left derelict, Shiftertown unrolled in streets of neat lawns and well-kept bungalows.

  These houses had been pretty much trashed and abandoned by the humans who'd lived there twenty years before, and the government department formed to deal with the Shifter situation had snapped up the cheap real estate and used it to house the Shifters. Shifters had moved in and repainted, reshingled, and repaired the houses themselves. Now anyone could walk fearlessly down the quiet streets of Shiftertown, doors could remain unlocked, and cubs could play safely in the front yards to all hours of the night.

  Shifters, three species of them, now lived together without killing each other. Who would have thought?

  Shiftertown was dark this late, though windows glowed in houses here and there. Felines and Lupines would be outside without lights, both species still nocturnal despite human effort to change that. Bears, much smarter, would be sound asleep, taking advantage of every moment of shut-eye they could get. Ursines used a lot of energy when awake, and they slept with dedication.

  Elizabeth, beside him, took it all in while gripping the dashboard. "Are you going to bother to tell me why I'm in Shiftertown?"

  "Sean brought your sister here, to my house."

  She whipped around to stare at him. "To your house? Why?"

  "Well, he couldn't take her to Liam's house because Connor lives there, and that could get messy. Mabel likes Connor, but Connor's still a cub."

  Elizabeth kept staring at him, clearly having no idea what he was talking about. "If you mean Connor who comes into my shop sometimes to flirt with Mabel, he's not a cub; he's in college."

  "He's only twenty-one, and in Shifter terms, that's still a cub. Won't make his Transition for another, oh, seven or eight years yet. It's best not to let him and Mabel be more than friends--too confusing and even dangerous for everyone. So, right now, my house is best. You've heard the story of Goldilocks and the Three Bears?"

  "Sure, but what has that got to do with--"

  "That story is total bullshit." Ronan laughed, the rumble of it filling the car. "At my house, nothing's too hard or too soft. Everything is just right. "

  He was rewarded with Elizabeth's smile. He liked her smile, like a sudden flash of sunshine. He hated to see her so afraid. She shouldn't be afraid, this sassy sweetheart.

  Ronan slowed the truck, which he'd found fun to drive but a tight fit. He turned into the driveway, which was nothing but two strips of broken pavement that led behind the house. Ronan had turned the garage in the back into a work-and-play room he and his housemates called the Den, so he parked outside, behind the other car and a large motorcycle already there.

  The motorcycle was Ronan's--Sean or a tracker must have retrieved it from the street near Elizabeth's store and driven it home for him. He hoped it hadn't been Nate who'd fetched it. Stupid Feline drove like an idiot.

  Ronan got out before Elizabeth could and went around to open her door. "Here we are," he said, taking her hand to help her stand up. He liked her hand, small and warm in his. "Get ready for the horde."

  "The what?"

  "No worries; I won't let them hurt you."

  The "horde" tumbled out of the back door and off the porch Ronan had built around two sides of the house. They were Rebecca, a full-grown she-bear from Ronan's clan; Scott, a black bear Shifter who was about twenty-seven and going through the pains of his Transition; Cherie, a grizzly, twenty in human years, who'd spent the first half of her life locked in a pen. Last came Olaf, the only polar bear in Shiftertown, nine in human years and still a true cub. Olaf had a sunny disposition, except when flashes of the past he couldn't quite remember came to him in his dreams. They called him Olaf, but no one, not even Olaf, knew his real name. All wore Collars that gleamed under the porch lights.

  Behind the bears was Mabel, Elizabeth's twenty-one-year-old sister, whose hair today was pink streaked with green. She looked keye
d up, frightened, and excited, all at the same time. She pushed past the bears and ran at Elizabeth, arms open.

  "Lizzy, damn it, they said you almost got shot, and then you were at that police station for, like, ever. And then those guys came to our house--looking for you. They called through the front door asking where you were. And then Shifters, all over the place. Liam said it wasn't safe for me to stay home, said I would meet up with you here. Have you seen that Spike guy? He is hot. I swear he has tattoos everywhere."

  Sounded like Mabel was all right then.

  Rebecca looked at Ronan in concern. "Ronan? Liam said you took a bullet. You all right?"

  Ronan held up his arm to show her the gauze bandage. "I'm fine. It just grazed me." A tiny bullet cutting across Ronan's triceps was nothing. He'd been shot with a Fae arrow last year--now that had hurt. The effing Fae spelled their arrows.

  "You were jumping in front of bullets again, weren't you, Ronan?" Cherie said, folding her arms. She had black-and-brown streaked hair, entirely natural, matching her grizzly's coat. "You've gotta stop that. We need you without holes."

  "Leave him alone," Scott said. "He did what he had to do."

  Scott was a black bear, the smallest of the horde when he shifted, but he was still tall and lanky, with black hair and a surly expression. The Transition was hard on him.

  Olaf was still mastering English, having been located by Liam and brought to Shiftertown only a year ago. He had white-blond hair and black eyes, and his bear was too adorable to be real. "Mabel paints my hair too. Okay, Ronan?"

  "I said he'd look cute with blue streaks in his hair," Mabel said.

  Rebecca shot Ronan an evil look. "I told him it was up to you."

  "Sure, thanks, Becks. Not now, Olaf. This is Elizabeth, Mabel's sister. She and Mabel are staying. So keep it down so they can sleep. I'll give them my room and sleep out in the Den."

  "No, no, no, don't do that to them," Rebecca said quickly. "They're taking my room, which is habitable, and I'll sleep in the Den. Putting them in your room would be cruel and unusual punishment."

  "I'm sleeping with Rebecca," Cherie said quickly. She always felt nervous when Rebecca was out of the house.

  "Whatever. Female bears," Ronan said to Elizabeth. "They like to take over. Everything."

  "Hey, Papa-Bear was out being arrested," Rebecca said. "For being a knight errant. I didn't realize that was a crime in the human world."

  "I did smack the guy," Ronan said. "But he deserved it. His mother must be too soft on him."

  "His mother is probably terrified of him," Elizabeth said. "Or maybe she's as bad as he is, or--most likely--not there at all."

  Ronan realized he still had hold of Elizabeth's hand. He also realized he wasn't in that big a hurry to let it go. Rebecca noticed, but--thank the Goddess--kept her thoughts to herself.

  "How do you know so much about humans like Marquez?" Ronan asked Elizabeth. "You said in the courtroom you knew exactly what he was going to do."

  Mabel rolled her eyes before Elizabeth could answer. "You do not want to know. Elizabeth was a juvenile delinquent. In a big way."

  "I thought they didn't want to know." Elizabeth shook off Ronan's hand. "It's nice of you, Ronan, but we can't stay here. I don't have a change of clothes, for one thing."

  "I brought your stuff," Mabel said brightly. "And Sean says we have to stay. He's cute, Lizzy--you should hear his Irish accent. Too bad he's mated, but I like his mate. Andrea, you've met her before. Anyway, Sean says we're staying in Shiftertown until Liam and the trackers make sure it's safe for us to go home."

  Elizabeth held up her hands. "Mabel, stop talking for just a second--"

  "Shiftertown's the safest place for you," Ronan broke in. "No one will find you here. The trackers will sniff around, find out what these people wanted with your house, and deal with them."

  Ronan saw Rebecca's eyes flicker when he said, Deal with them, and the two bears shared a look. The phrase could have many shades of meaning, especially with the Morrisseys involved.

  Juvenile delinquent. In a big way. Ronan remembered how Elizabeth had lifted the card from his pocket--quickly and skillfully. There was more to Elizabeth Chapman than met the eye, and Ronan was determined to find out all about her.

  Elizabeth still hesitated, but Olaf walked up to her and put his little hand in hers. "Inside," he said in his thickly accented English. "We keep you safe, Lizbeth."

  The little cub did what all the adults could not. Elizabeth's look softened, and she let Olaf lead her into the house.

  *** *** ***

  Elizabeth followed Olaf, whose little hand had a surprisingly strong grip. Kids were very good at giving off danger signals, but Olaf radiated confidence that Elizabeth would be all right in Ronan's house.

  Behind her, Rebecca herded the rest of them, including Ronan, inside. She had to let Olaf help her lead Mabel and Elizabeth upstairs to her small bedroom on the second floor; Olaf would not relinquish Elizabeth's hand until she was safely inside the room.

  The bedroom was neat and spare, without many personal possessions. Rebecca took some extra blankets out of a closet and spread them across the double bed. She shook her head when Elizabeth tried to thank her, then grabbed some clothes and headed out.

  "Ronan's in the next room," Rebecca said in the doorway. "If his snoring gets too loud, bang on the wall. Sometimes that works." She flipped her spare shirt over her shoulder and disappeared.

  The door closed. Through it Elizabeth could hear the three younger ones going back downstairs, all talking to Ronan and Rebecca at once, and Ronan's rumbling bass answering them.

  "Isn't this cool?" Mabel pulled up the blinds and looked out at the dark street below. "I always wanted to come to Shiftertown. I think Connor Morrissey lives over there." She pointed.

  Elizabeth sat down on the bed, her legs giving out. Everything from staring at the black opening of the gun, to trying to remember what had happened for Ronan's hearing, to the shock of being brought to Shiftertown to meet Ronan's--family?--was taking its toll.

  "Are the kids his?" she asked Mabel. "And Rebecca, is she his wife? Or mate, I mean?"

  "Nope." Mabel finally let down the blind and turned away from the window. "None of the kids are related to each other or to Ronan or Rebecca. Rebecca says she's Ronan's cousin or something, distant. They're not mated, and they can't mate, because they're in the same clan. Otherwise, this is like a foster home for Bear Shifters, but way better than a human one."

  That was for sure.

  Mabel, always resilient, stripped off her clothes and got into bed in her underwear. Mabel usually slept in the nude, so Elizabeth supposed she was keeping herself covered to be courteous to Elizabeth. She'd brought Elizabeth's nightshirt and a change of clothes in a shoulder bag, and Elizabeth pulled on the nightshirt and snuggled down against Mabel. She closed her eyes but, as she'd guessed it would, sleep evaded her.

  But it wasn't the kid with the gun Elizabeth kept seeing as she lay, restless and awake. It was Ronan, first charging in to her rescue, then rising into a perfectly proportioned, hard-bodied man with muscles everywhere. He had one tatt, a Celtic interlocking pattern that laced across the small of his back. His buzzed short hair was dark brown, almost black, but with highlights of lighter brown. His bear's fur had the same rippling, rich brown color.

  Tonight Elizabeth had seen him range from enraged and ready to kill, to annoyed, to resigned, to worried, to reassuring, to affectionate. Ronan might be gruff with the kids who lived with him, but she could tell he was fond of them.

  Elizabeth had always had a problem with trust. For good reason--some of the people she'd ended up living with as a kid had been horrible, some dangerous. She'd done everything in her power to protect Mabel from them, which meant she'd had to make some tough choices.

  The lesson Elizabeth had learned early in life was that you didn't trust anyone. For any reason. People who acted as though you could rely on them would turn on you the second they were no longer i
nterested in your problems. You couldn't count on even the nicest people in a pinch.

  So she didn't know what to make of Ronan offering her and Mabel a place to sleep, or the Shifters surging across town to get Mabel out of danger. She didn't know anything about Shifters or what drove them--or what they'd expect from her in return.

  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.