Bodyguard (Shifters Unbound #2.5)(8)
Author: Jennifer Ashley

Elizabeth held up her hands. "Mabel, stop talking for just a second–"

"Shiftertown’s the safest place for you," Ronan broke in. "No one will find you here. The trackers will sniff around, find out what these people wanted with your house, and deal with them."

Ronan saw Rebecca’s eyes flicker when he said, Deal with them, and the two bears shared a look. The phrase could have many shades of meaning, especially with the Morrisseys involved.

Juvenile delinquent. In a big way. Ronan remembered how Elizabeth had lifted the card from his pocket–quickly and skillfully. There was more to Elizabeth Chapman than met the eye, and Ronan was determined to find out all about her.

Elizabeth still hesitated, but Olaf walked up to her and put his little hand in hers. "Inside," he said in his thickly accented English. "We keep you safe, Lizbeth."

The little cub did what all the adults could not. Elizabeth’s look softened, and she let Olaf lead her into the house.

*** *** ***

Elizabeth followed Olaf, whose little hand had a surprisingly strong grip. Kids were very good at giving off danger signals, but Olaf radiated confidence that Elizabeth would be all right in Ronan’s house.

Behind her, Rebecca herded the rest of them, including Ronan, inside. She had to let Olaf help her lead Mabel and Elizabeth upstairs to her small bedroom on the second floor; Olaf would not relinquish Elizabeth’s hand until she was safely inside the room.

The bedroom was neat and spare, without many personal possessions. Rebecca took some extra blankets out of a closet and spread them across the double bed. She shook her head when Elizabeth tried to thank her, then grabbed some clothes and headed out.

"Ronan’s in the next room," Rebecca said in the doorway. "If his snoring gets too loud, bang on the wall. Sometimes that works." She flipped her spare shirt over her shoulder and disappeared.

The door closed. Through it Elizabeth could hear the three younger ones going back downstairs, all talking to Ronan and Rebecca at once, and Ronan’s rumbling bass answering them.

"Isn’t this cool?" Mabel pulled up the blinds and looked out at the dark street below. "I always wanted to come to Shiftertown. I think Connor Morrissey lives over there." She pointed.

Elizabeth sat down on the bed, her legs giving out. Everything from staring at the black opening of the gun, to trying to remember what had happened for Ronan’s hearing, to the shock of being brought to Shiftertown to meet Ronan’s–family?–was taking its toll.

"Are the kids his?" she asked Mabel. "And Rebecca, is she his wife? Or mate, I mean?"

"Nope." Mabel finally let down the blind and turned away from the window. "None of the kids are related to each other or to Ronan or Rebecca. Rebecca says she’s Ronan’s cousin or something, distant. They’re not mated, and they can’t mate, because they’re in the same clan. Otherwise, this is like a foster home for Bear Shifters, but way better than a human one."

That was for sure.

Mabel, always resilient, stripped off her clothes and got into bed in her underwear. Mabel usually slept in the nude, so Elizabeth supposed she was keeping herself covered to be courteous to Elizabeth. She’d brought Elizabeth’s nightshirt and a change of clothes in a shoulder bag, and Elizabeth pulled on the nightshirt and snuggled down against Mabel. She closed her eyes but, as she’d guessed it would, sleep evaded her.

But it wasn’t the kid with the gun Elizabeth kept seeing as she lay, restless and awake. It was Ronan, first charging in to her rescue, then rising into a perfectly proportioned, hard-bodied man with muscles everywhere. He had one tatt, a Celtic interlocking pattern that laced across the small of his back. His buzzed short hair was dark brown, almost black, but with highlights of lighter brown. His bear’s fur had the same rippling, rich brown color.

Tonight Elizabeth had seen him range from enraged and ready to kill, to annoyed, to resigned, to worried, to reassuring, to affectionate. Ronan might be gruff with the kids who lived with him, but she could tell he was fond of them.

Elizabeth had always had a problem with trust. For good reason–some of the people she’d ended up living with as a kid had been horrible, some dangerous. She’d done everything in her power to protect Mabel from them, which meant she’d had to make some tough choices.

The lesson Elizabeth had learned early in life was that you didn’t trust anyone. For any reason. People who acted as though you could rely on them would turn on you the second they were no longer interested in your problems. You couldn’t count on even the nicest people in a pinch.

So she didn’t know what to make of Ronan offering her and Mabel a place to sleep, or the Shifters surging across town to get Mabel out of danger. She didn’t know anything about Shifters or what drove them–or what they’d expect from her in return.

She could only do what she’d done all her life–sit tight, scope out the lay of the land, and decide what to do from there. Her eyes remained open as she thought over all this, but Mabel soon dropped off into innocent sleep, emitting faint, peaceful snores.

*** *** ***

Elizabeth left her room in the morning to the smell of coffee and bacon wafting up the stairs. Cherie was across the hall, leaning against the closed door of the one bathroom.

"Come on, Scott, does anyone else get to use the bathroom today?"

Scott’s voice roared back over running water. "I’m in the shower!"

"You’ve been in the shower for half an hour. We have guests, you big idiot."

"I didn’t ask them here!"

Cherie saw Elizabeth and rolled her eyes. "He’s in Transition. It’s like he can’t get himself clean enough, as if that’s going to make females fall all over him. There aren’t enough female Shifters in this Shiftertown anyway–he won’t have a chance to mate for years yet."

"Transition?"

"From cub to adult," Cherie said. "I hope I’m not this insensitive when it’s my turn." She slapped her palm to the door. "Scott, would you quit hogging the bathroom?"

"Go next door!" he shouted.

"Males." Cherie rolled her eyes again. She was pretty, with the deep, startling beauty that Rebecca had, hers not as fully developed yet. Cherie looked about twenty in human years, only a little younger than Mabel, but apparently, like Connor, she was still considered a cub.

"Probably best you have breakfast first," Cherie said. "If there’s any hot water left when he’s done, you and your sister can have dibs on the bathroom."

"Whatever works," Elizabeth said, shrugging. You needed to establish territory fast in a foster home, but you also had to show that you were willing to be flexible with those who didn’t fight you. Besides, Elizabeth would be home soon, in her own bathroom.