"No, Ronan," Elizabeth said. "Don't bargain with him."
Ronan's voice cut over hers. "Get the hell out of here, you little shit, before I let Spike rip you apart."
"Take my offer, Bear," Julio said, stepping backward toward the darkness. "Take it or that email goes."
"Fine. Spike."
Spike rushed him. Julio turned and ran, satisfactorily fast, but he called back, "See you tomorrow night!"
He melted into the darkness, a kid well versed in getting away as quickly as he could. Spike loped after him and Nate followed.
Ronan watched them go, remaining planted until he was well out of sight. He took Elizabeth's hand again. "Come on. Let's go home."
Elizabeth ripped herself out of his grasp. "Don't you dare say let's go home like nothing's wrong."
"Let's go home and talk about it, inside," Ronan said emphatically.
"Yes, all right." She was shaking. Hearing her real name come out of Julio's mouth had made bile rise in her throat. "You can't seriously mean you'll do what he wants."
"I don't," Ronan said. He leaned to her. "Now, let's go home."
*** *** ***
Elizabeth held it together long enough to ride behind Ronan through the streets of Shiftertown to his house tucked beneath spreading trees. Ronan drove around to the back of the house and shut off the bike. No lights glowed in the house and they didn't have outdoor lights to illuminate the back--Shifters saw well in the dark.
Ronan lifted off his helmet and hung it on the bike, and did the same with Elizabeth's. Before she could move toward the house, he put large hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him.
"Tell me the guy's name."
"Not if you mean you'll go after him. He's too dangerous, Ronan. If you think Pablo Marquez is dangerous, he's small potatoes compared to this man."
"I know he's dangerous, and I know Marquez is too. I told Julio I'd agree to the fight so he wouldn't send the damn email. Julio's a brat, but he can hurt you just by being stupid. Tell me his name. We need to know."
"What is wrong with you?" Elizabeth's voice rose, and she didn't care. "You Shifters think you're unstoppable. Well, you're not. You wear Collars, for God's sake. You have to live in Shiftertowns, you're treated like second-class citizens. What makes you think you can go after a huge drug lord and survive when the cops, the FBI, and even other gangs can't make a dent?"
"Because Shifters don't give a rat's ass about Collars and Shiftertowns and idiotic human rules!" Ronan shouted back. "The humans feel so good that they've restricted us and controlled us, don't they? So safe, because the beasts are in the cage. Meanwhile, if you hadn't noticed, we do whatever the hell we want."
Yes, Elizabeth had noticed that. She remembered the courtroom, where the judge, prosecutor, and bailiff had been nervous and ill at ease, while Liam and Ronan hadn't been worried at all. They'd been in control, and they'd known it. Ronan, also, nonchalantly escorted Elizabeth to her store every morning, blatantly disregarding his restriction to remain in Shiftertown. He took precautions not to be caught, but he went.
"I still don't want you fighting whoever Julio's coerced into working for him," Elizabeth said.
The glint in Ronan's eye was maddening. "Why not? It might be fun."
"Ronan."
"You let me worry about the fight, and you let me worry about this drug lord. Now, who is he?"
"Damn it, Ronan, if you go up against him, he'll kill you. He won't wait to talk. He'll kill you and all your Shifter friends. I'm not kidding."
"I'm not kidding, either. Why do you think Pablo Marquez has left you alone all week? Because Dylan and Sean went and had a little talk with him. Marquez is making plans to shut down his business here and open up somewhere else."
"I never heard that."
"Of course you didn't. The Morrisseys, they do their shit, and they shut up about it. I didn't tell you, because I liked seeing you not worry about him. Now I want to make sure you never have to worry about this other guy--whose name you're about to give me."
Elizabeth pressed her hands together. She didn't know what to do, and her indecision and fear made her eyes blur with tears.
Ronan softened his touch. "Sweetheart," he said in the tender tone she'd come to love. He drew her against him. "Don't be scared. I take care of you now. That's what it means to be mate-claimed."
"But I could lose you." Her voice broke. "I finally found something good, and I'll lose you!"
Ronan cuddled her close. "Lizzie-girl," he said, lips brushing her hair. "Shh."
They stood together in the night breeze that cooled the humid air, rocking together. The pain that laced Elizabeth's heart made more tears spill to wet the black T-shirt stretched over Ronan's chest. She'd had so few good things in her life, so few good people, that everything in her cried, Don't let go.
She wiped tears from her eyes as she rose on her tiptoes and kissed him.
Ronan's mouth was a warm place in the night, tasting of heat and spice. Elizabeth clung to him as he kissed her back, his tongue stroking hers with gentle possession.
This man had become, even in such a short time, a rock in her life. To have someone take him away from her--no!
Ronan warmed her back with his big hands, his touch soothing. "We should get inside," he said. "Not the house. Rebecca's upstairs taking care of Olaf, and your sister and Cherie are talking like crazy in your room. Shifter hearing. And scent," he said, by way of explanation as to how he knew this. "Besides, my room's always a mess."
He gave her a little shamefaced smile as he said this last, which made Elizabeth kiss him again. He gestured toward the Den, and she nodded. Ronan took her hand and led her there.
Chapter Thirteen
The Den empty, dark, and quiet. Ronan turned on a lamp and closed the shades against the night.
He didn't try anything romantic like carrying Elizabeth to the bed this time. He simply kissed her while he slid his hands under the hem of her cropped top and lifted it off over her head.
She wore a tiny black bra underneath, a strip of satin and lace above which her br**sts swelled. She closed her eyes as Ronan drew his fingertip along her butterfly tattoo, bared in its entirety now. It had tasted fine the other night. Ronan lowered his head to taste it again.
Elizabeth made a little noise of pleasure, and her fingers came up to furrow his hair. She smelled good, the cinnamon scent overlaid with her own musk. He tasted perspiration and her as he glided his tongue over the smooth line of her tattoo.