Lone Wolf

Pablo had come, betting on the fight in his quiet way. Ellison guessed he’d bet on Broderick. But then, Broderick hadn’t fallen from a balcony onto stairs and had two crazed cheetahs in their Transition land on him.

Dylan and Tiger had taken charge of the cheetahs. When they’d turned to human, they’d been two males in their late twenties, twins, who had lived as captives on a wealthy woman’s estate in New York. The woman had asked Bradley to take them back when they hit their Transition and became too crazed.

Tiger had been solicitous of the two, and Dylan was arranging for them to be taken into the Austin Shiftertown.

They owed another debt to Pablo. He’d stayed behind after the Shifters had piled into various vehicles to leave, taking care of the remaining mercs and saying he’d make Bradley’s death and the torn-up house look like a gang hit. Bradley had made many enemies. Pablo had looked around the house and at the kitchen with approval, and said he’d try to buy the place. Ellison suspected he’d provide jobs for Bradley’s mercenaries, now that their boss was dead. The battle today was all to Pablo’s gain.

As for Deni . . . she stood straight and tall beside Maria. Shooting Bradley seemed to have released something in her. The haunting worry in her eyes had gone, and her cubs, standing behind her, were there to comfort her. Whether she’d thrown off the episodes of her memory blanking remained to be seen, but Deni now knew exactly what had happened to her, and who had done it.

Bradley might have been trying to capture her—maybe he’d mistaken her for a cub, or maybe someone had asked for a female Shifter the same way the woman had asked for someone Connor’s age. Ellison’s rage hadn’t calmed down about that. Maria had declared her new mission to track down all those who’d purchased Shifters—adult or cub—and release the captives. Ellison agreed. They’d start tomorrow.

Tonight, he needed to take out Broderick.

Two refs stood between the two combatants. They thumped their fists, one over the other, and yelled, “Fight.”

The refs scattered, and Ellison went for Broderick. Broderick sidestepped, whirled, and shifted at the same time. Mistake. Broderick landed in Ellison’s furred arms, Ellison rising into his half-Shifter beast.

Broderick squirmed away, lithe and strong as his wolf. Ellison followed, the pain in his ribs slowing him down, his Collar going off. Broderick took advantage to shift to his half beast and catch Ellison across the torso with his clawed hands.

Ellison danced back, landing on all fours as a wolf. He launched himself upward, latching his teeth into Broderick’s throat.

He found his mouth full of the loose fur as Broderick came down wolf. He snarled and shook, flailing Ellison’s body, but Ellison held on.

Broderick finally twisted all the way around, and Ellison’s teeth slipped. Blood dripped from the wound in Broderick’s neck, the metallic taste winding Ellison into a frenzy.

“No killing!” one of the refs yelled.

Too late. Ellison’s rage was up. Broderick wanted to steal his mate. In the wild, males tried to abduct females all the time, until the formal Challenge and its rules had been set up to protect the scarce females. These days, Challenges didn’t end in the kill, but Ellison wanted it.

He went for Broderick’s throat again. This time, Broderick shifted into his half-wolf beast, catching Ellison, raising him high, and throwing him down.

Ellison landed in a whump of dust, the bruised ribs stabbing him, new wounds opening. His Collar was sparking too, slowing his roll to his feet.

He stood panting, trying to raise his head. Damn Broderick. He needed to go down.

Ellison backed up a few steps, but Broderick charged him. Ellison came up, and the two males met, both wolves now, snarling, biting, clawing.

Broderick chomped on the back of Ellison’s neck, and Ellison rolled away, wanting to groan in pain. He scrambled to get his paws under him, the light of the fires in the abandoned hay barn starting to blur. Broderick was a blur too, the noise around him a hum of confusion.

Something brushed past him, something that smelled sweet and good, and of mate.

“Stop!” he heard Maria shout. “Stop the fight!”

Ellison blinked. The lights were still fuzzy around the edges, but he saw Maria clearly, inside the ring, between him and Broderick. The refs were coming for her, shock on their faces.

A big rule of the fight club was that no one, no one, stopped a fight once it started. The only stopping was when an opponent yielded, or the refs thought one of them too far gone and needed to be contained.

No one watching was allowed to touch the fighters, and certainly not to enter the ring. Especially a human. Especially a human female.

The two refs, big Felines, were heading to grab Maria and drag her out. Ellison put his wolf body between her and them, growling hard.

Outside the ring, Connor said, “Maria, you can’t do that.”

Tiger stepped over the barrier. Ellison noticed no one tried to stop him. “Don’t touch her,” Tiger said clearly.

The refs halted. Broderick shifted into his human form and put his hands on his hips. Goddess, the man stank.

“You can’t stop the Challenge,” Broderick said to Maria. “Or he forfeits.” He grinned at her. “You don’t want that, now do you?”

“He was already hurt before he walked in,” Maria said angrily. “You knew that. You should have put it off.”

“Hey, he picked the time and place.”

Ellison leaned back against Maria, a fine place to be, and she put her arms around his neck. “Do it some other time. You can stop this.”