Bodyguard

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."

"Son," Sean said, in an almost kind voice. "You wouldn't have time to let it worry you."

Pablo was not blind to the fact that these guys were serious. Somehow, they'd gotten past his guards. He had no doubt that if he killed them, three more Shifters would visit him in the night. Collars or no Collars, laws or no laws, they knew their stuff.

He took his hand all the way off the gun and pushed the pistol it aside, leaving it close enough to grab if he needed to, but showing that he'd be happy to settle this without violence. Which he was. Julio had been stupid, and even Pablo hadn't realized that the bitch had the entire Austin Shiftertown backing her up. Julio so needed to learn to do his research first.

Pablo had been researching Elizabeth Chapman ever since Julio had gotten himself arrested for trying to rob her. He'd run into difficulty trying to discover specifics about her past, but he'd find out. He was very close.

"I don't have time for a war," Pablo said in a reasonable tone. "And I'm thinking neither do you. My brother is an idiot, but I have some good lawyers, and maybe I can get him out of this. But it will be bad for my business if your friends insist on testifying."

"Your business really isn't our concern," Sean said. "Don't you sell drugs and hurt people? Not a business we want in our town."

Pablo's business was a little more sophisticated than that, but he wasn't going to argue the point.

"How about this?" he asked. "Your friend gets a little forgetful in the witness box, my lawyers help my brother, and we call it quits? Your friend stays in her business in SoCo, I stay in mine here, and we never see each other again."

The Shifters said nothing. They didn't look at one another, but Pablo got the feeling they were discussing it amongst themselves, with that nonverbal communication animals were supposed to have.

The one called Dylan was the first to speak. "We want you out of our town, Pablo Marquez. And you'll go."

He looked straight into Pablo's eyes. Pablo, having grown up in the back streets of almost every city in the south, had learned to meet his opponent's challenging stare and then look away casually, almost derisively, as though he wasn't concerned about winning the staring contest.

But he couldn't look away from Dylan. Pablo wanted to, but Dylan's blue-white stare would not let him go. He saw, behind Dylan, Sean relaxed, unworried. They had no doubt that Pablo would obey Dylan--if not now, then eventually.

"Why don't you go on out of here?" Pablo said, pretending nonchalance. "I'll make sure my boys don't get trigger happy so you make it to your car. But I can't guarantee it, so watch yourselves."

The Shifters didn't like being dismissed. Well, too bad. Pablo wasn't going to wet himself for them. He had his own plans. The next time they met, he wouldn't be caught so unprepared.

They faded away. Pablo wasn't sure how they did it, but one minute the three Shifters were in the shadows of his office; the next, they were gone.

He snapped an order to the man who was supposed to guard the door and got no response. Gun in hand, Pablo made his way to the front door and peered outside. The darkening street showed no one, not his guards, not retreating Shifters, not the mechanics who ostensibly worked in his body shop. All was silence, but for the few bits of trash that drifted across the pavement on a hot Texas wind.