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Bodyguard

Page 2

   


He wiped his streaming eyes. "Shit, woman," he said in a voice that brought down a trickle of ceiling tile dust to whiten his hair. "That itches."
Chapter Two
Elizabeth Chapman's red-streaked hair was mussed and her blue eyes were filled with fear as she faced Ronan, but she kept her hand firmly on the pepper spray.
"Who are you?" she demanded.
"Ronan. At your service." Ronan raised his hand in a mock salute, and blood from the bullet wound pattered to her pretty carpet. "Why'd you hit me with the pepper spray?"
Said pepper spray didn't move. "Why'd you keep coming at me, looking like you wanted to kill me?"
"I didn't. I was fighting my Collar, trying to keep it from going off. Hurts like a bitch when it does." He put out his hand and lowered the pepper spray without taking it away from her. "Now I know what stops it. Pepper spray." He shook his head again. "Shit."
"Sorry," Elizabeth said, not sounding very sorry.
"Don't worry, sweetheart. I only go after bad guys." Ronan gazed with contempt at the human stretched out on the rose-patterned rug, which now contained extra red blotches from Ronan's wound. Unconscious, the robber looked very young.
Elizabeth snatched tissues from a box on her desk and handed them to Ronan. "He shot you. You need a hospital."
Ronan took the tissues and started wiping the blood from his arm. "Grazed me, and hospitals don't know what to do with Shifters. You gonna call the cops before he wakes up?"
Elizabeth stared at the cell phone in her hand as though surprised to find it there, then she turned around and punched in the three numbers.
Ronan lifted the pistol from the floor and held it between his thumb and forefinger. He hated guns. Any projectile weapon, in fact. He guided Elizabeth out of the office as she started babbling to the 9-1-1 operator, then he set the pistol on the nearest counter and started looking for his clothes.
He found the jeans he'd tossed into the corner and pulled these back on, but his shirt, which had shredded with his swift change, was a total loss. He rummaged the nearby racks and pulled out the biggest T-shirt he could find, a bright red one with Red-Hot Lover: Handle with Care printed on the front.
Elizabeth still had her cell phone to her ear. "You all right?" she asked Ronan, her gaze going to the wound.
Ronan shrugged. "Will be."
"Here. They don't want me to hang up."
Elizabeth handed him the open phone, snatched some paper towels and a first aid kit from behind the counter, and gently dabbed residual blood from his triceps. Ronan liked the brush of her slim fingers as she fixed a gauze bandage over the wound, the smell of her hair under his nose. Strawberries and honey. Bears like honey.
"Thanks," he rumbled.
"What were you doing in here, anyway?" Elizabeth asked as she closed the first-aid kit.
"Shopping. This is a store. I needed to buy a birthday present."
"This late?" It was going on midnight.
"Only time I had free." He growled into the cell phone. "Hey, will you guys be here any time soon? This lady needs to go home."
As though in answer, red and blue lights flashed outside, and the shop soon filled with police and paramedics. They made their way into the back office and found the inert robber, and the paramedics bundled him up and carried him out.
One of the police--a woman with black hair pulled into a hard bun and a take-no-shit stare--handed the kid's pistol and shoulder bag full of Elizabeth's money to her colleague and stayed behind to ask questions. Elizabeth described what had happened, and the female cop eyed Ronan in suspicion.
"Name," she said to him.
"Ronan."
"Ronan what?"
"Just Ronan. Bears don't have surnames."
The police officer had a smooth face and cold, black eyes. "You're a Shifter," she said.
"No kidding." Ronan glanced at Elizabeth, whose lips were too bloodless. "Can you let her go home? She's pretty shaken up."
"After she gives me her statement. You too, Shifter. In fact, I want you coming in with us."
She put away her little notebook and took out a pair of cuffs. They were big cuffs, and Ronan saw the markings that told him they had Fae magic in them, fashioned to contain Shifters.
"What are you doing?" Elizabeth asked, wide-eyed. "Ronan didn't rob me. He helped me."
"He's a Shifter," the woman said. "He hit a human, and the human's going to the hospital. That's assault, and for Shifters a capital crime. I have to arrest him." Rules are rules, her flat eyes seemed to say.
"You mean he hit a human who was about to kill me," Elizabeth said heatedly. "If Ronan hadn't been here, I'd be dead."
The officer shrugged. "If you want to come down and plead his case to the judge, it's your choice. But I have to take him."
Ronan saw indecision flicker in Elizabeth Chapman's eyes. This wasn't her fight. She wanted to go home and forget about the robbery as best she could. Ronan wasn't sure what human females did to make themselves feel better, but the cub, Cherie, who lived in his house, liked to take baths that lasted forever whenever she was stressed. Which was often, considering what she'd gone through.
Ronan's fantasies went to Elizabeth in a bathtub, her curved body covered with suds, her black hair wet. He bet she looked cute with her hair all damp and spiky.
The cop clicked the cuffs onto Ronan's wrists behind his back, and the pleasant vision dissolved as he felt the sting of Fae magic. Even the small bite of it ground through his nerves and tried to set off a spark from his Collar. Elizabeth looked concerned as he winced, but Ronan shook his head at her.
"Don't worry about me, Lizzie-girl. But do me a favor. Find a lawyer called Kim Fraser--she's mated to Liam Morrissey in Shiftertown, and they live next door to Glory. I know you know Glory--she comes in here all the time. Tell Kim what happened for me?"
Kim, a human, had set up a law office that specialized in helping Shifters. Because human laws governing Shifters were restrictive and complex, Shifters needed all the help they could get.
"All right?" Ronan repeated, looking hard at Elizabeth. "Tell her?"
Elizabeth pressed her slim hands together and held them a little under her chin. Human body language for I don't know what the right thing is to do here.