Bearly Hanging On (The Jamesburg Shifters #6)(55)

"Oh," he said flatly when he caught a glimpse of Ryan. "What a surprise."

Ryan hissed, angrily, his eyes flashing rage. "Do whatever you want to me, Danniken," he snarled. "But leave these people alone."

Erik narrowed his eyes, obviously roused at the challenge presented those couple of weeks ago in the middle of his courthouse. He popped his neck one way, and then back the other. "Why should I?" he asked. "Why should I listen to a jewel thief who ran to Jamesburg to try and escape what he did for a decade? Huh?"

Ryan's nostrils flared, he took a step toward Erik, and at the same time, both Ash and Jamie grabbed one of the bear's arms.

"Leave him alone," Erik said. His voice was growing husky, his eyes going yellow. "If he wants to play this game, he can play it. I know the whole story, every bit of it. Our friend Branson turns out to not actually be an FBI agent, but something similar. He's been looking for you a long, long time, hasn't he? Although I admit it takes some incredible balls to not bother changing your name after all that."

"You don't know what you're doing, Danniken," Ryan snarled. "Do you think Branson cares about you? These people? This town? Do you think you're anything but a stepping stone to him? He proves the police in some weird, backward, unincorporated town in the middle of nowhere can't find a diamond thief, and then what? That's that?"

Jamie could tell Erik's brain hitched on what was just said. Although, to be fair, hers was reeling in about six different directions, all of which she knew were going to end in "throwing up."

The wolf and the bear stood, both bristled up, both about ready to jump at the other one. Muscles were tight, tendons strung like a guitar. Neither moved. They just watched one another, eyes trained and staring.

"Make a move, Drake," Erik said. "Whatever you decide, it's yours to make."

"What do you mean, my move?"

"I mean what I said. You were right. About Branson. I'm not going to pretend you aren't. And whatever it looks like, I do care about those people you feed. But I'm not going to let my town burn to the ground because I'm harboring a federal fugitive."

"But you're going to let me go?"

"No," Erik said. "I never saw you. I showed up here and a bunch of old folks," he waved to the old folks, who all waved back, "were being arrested because the owner of a local video rental establishment called them in for loitering. They were bothering the porno-fiend customers who go to a video store at one in the morning. When I showed up, that was all there was to see."

Erik glared straight at Ryan. "Any questions?"

"You gonna tell them where to find me?"

Erik snorted a laugh. "I admire you. I don't admire many people, but I admire you. Hell, I even agree with what you did. But you're a Goddamn lunatic if you think I'm going to invite federal paranormal police into my town for any reason at all. As far as I know, you're a distant memory. If Branson asks, I'll tell him the last I saw of you was when you showed up in my court room and called me an *."

"I didn't call you an—"

"Yeah, you did, maybe not in so many words, but that was the gist of it. And you might be right. I admire the truth. That's one of two things a man can do to be a good man."

"What's the other?"

Erik flashed a grin. His was the only one Jamie had ever seen that could compete with the half-cocked, dimple-cheeked, smug-as-hell smirk that Ryan had. "Knowing when to run the f*ck away."

One last glance to Jamie, a nod of the head to Erik. "You'll take care of them?"

"I'll figure something out," he said. "I always do."

The look of antagonism and near rage that the two men were locked in slowly softened to something resembling respect.

"I won't leave you," Ryan said after he turned, so softly that only Jamie's bat ears could pick it up. "I'd die if I did. Don't look for me. I don't want you in any danger."

She didn't bother hiding the red streaks that came, in full rivers, down her cheeks.

Erik turned to her and they locked eyes. "Thank you," she whispered. He grabbed her shoulder, gave her a squeeze, and before she knew it, he - Erik Danniken, the least emotionally supportive ex-boyfriend she'd ever had - pulled her in for a hug.

"Izzy's changed you," she whispered. "Sorry, I think I ruined your muscle shirt."

He laughed. "Yeah, she has. And don't worry about it. And also don't worry about him. He'll figure something out. That's a smart damn bear you found yourself. If you need time, take it. If not, don't. You know you don't need to answer for anything you do, not with me."

"Thanks," Jamie said for the second time. "I'll, uh, I'll see you tomorrow. Bright and early. Got that meeting with Branson, right?"

"Yeah," Erik said. "Guess so. Wonder if we'll have anything else to talk about?"

"We do," she said to him. "I want to know everything about him. I want to know the dirt, the grit, the whole deal."

"If you want, I'll tell you. But if the two of you are going to come to terms with each other it's best he learn about you from you and him from him. But I'll tell you this much - I'm not exaggerating when I say that guy, that one that just dashed off into the woods? He's a damn legend. I'll just leave it at that."