Bodyguard (Shifters Unbound #2.5) (12 page)

"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 risen to a
breaking point, and all she could do was turn her back on the
Shifters, storm inside, and slam the door.

* * * * *

Chapter Ten

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 stern
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."

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."