Elizabeth wanted to ask, but other store owners were looking out their doors at the Shifters. Elizabeth got the store unlocked and them inside as quickly as she could.
"Fight club?" she asked Ronan as Ellison and Spike carried toolboxes to the torn-up wall. The two Shifters started pondering how to fix it in the universal male way of standing back and staring at it.
Ronan didn't look very surprised at her question. "Liam gets pissed off, because he says it's glorified c**k fighting, and he's right. But he doesn't stop Shifters going--the fights allow us to let off steam. Fight clubs are privately arranged bouts between Shifters, no holds barred. Not exactly legal, but humans bet on us, and we give them a good show, so there's a lot of looking the other way."
"Like gladiators." Elizabeth's gaze went to the Collar snug against Ronan's big neck, the Celtic knot at his throat. "Don't your Collars stop you?"
"Oh, they go off. Believe me. It evens the field, Shifter against Shifter. Some are better than others at fighting through the pain. Spike's one of the favorites. Trust me, the other guy will look worse."
Elizabeth stared at him. "You have to be crazy. I've seen underground boxing and mixed martial arts meets, and they're brutal. Shifter ones have to be even more brutal."
"They can be. But Shifters are tough, Elizabeth. And sometimes we have to fight, or we go a little nuts. Humans think they suppress our fighting instincts with the Collars, but the instincts don't go away. Except that now, we have no natural outlet. So Liam pretends he doesn't see a dozen Shifters disappear at night and come back bruised and Collar-wasted. Even Scott's been going lately."
"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."