"Oh, yeah." Rebecca yawned, stretched, and went upstairs to shower.

Scott came home before Elizabeth and Ronan left, as did Cherie and Mabel. Cherie and Mabel were chipper; Scott mumbled something and shuffled upstairs to his bedroom.

Olaf wanted to see the store, but Elizabeth, uncertain that Marquez or his friends wouldn't return, said no. Olaf was disappointed, but he agreed, with surprising cheerfulness, to wait until Ronan thought it safe.

"He trusts you," Elizabeth said as she and Ronan headed out for Ronan's motorcycle.

"Olaf? Mostly. He just gets scared at night. You sleep okay?"

"Yes." She had. In spite of the late night and early start, Elizabeth felt refreshed. In the room with Olaf and Ronan, she'd let herself completely relax for the first time in . . . well, forever.

Spike and Ellison were waiting outside the store when they arrived. Ellison lounged on the hood of his pickup, a long, tall Texan if Elizabeth ever saw one, though Ronan had told her he'd come here from Colorado.

Spike looked pure urban biker. He leaned against the wall outside the store, skin well inked, sunglasses against the glare, and motorcycle boots and grease-stained jeans to Ellison's cowboy boots. This morning, though, one side of his face was purple and black, and when he took off his sunglasses, his left eye definitely sported a shiner.

"What happened to you?" Elizabeth asked.

"Fight club." Spike shrugged tight shoulders. "Don't tell Liam."

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."