by Claire Marta
Unlocking the door, she opened it a crack, peering out at the two men with suspicion. “What?”
“We brought you lunch.” Iosefa held up a brown paper bag. “With orange juice and some lavender oil that should help you feel better.”
The mention of the oil snared her attention. Malik noticed her sudden interest in the contents of the bag. “Elijah says that lavender is used as a sleep aid. He said it would soothe you, allow you to relax, and help you feel better.”
Remembering Morgan’s magical oils, she felt excitement swell, already imagining soaking in them. “Sure, whatever.” Schooling herself to seem unimpressed, she opened the door wide enough to take what they offered. “Thanks,” she muttered. “Now get back to work. Go rehab. Your guests are depending on you.”
Something that she refused to do.
Closing the door in their faces, she struggled with a rising tide of emotions that threatened to drag her under. Unwanted attraction. Annoyance. Envy. They had guests and she had no one. How fucking fair was that? Ben’s loss wasn’t new but learning about Popov had reopened her wounds, making her feel raw and vulnerable and depressed at the thought of Morgan flying out tomorrow night, leaving her to spend Thanksgiving alone.
Seeking to console herself, she opened the food sack and pulled out the lunch that they’d brought her. Casey discovered a hoagie roll filled with pulled pork barbecue, a bag of sweet potato fries, a carton of orange juice, and the biggest dill pickle she’d ever seen.
The pickle threw her. It seemed a subliminal message of some kind. Like maybe they thought she was a big sour puss. Or maybe it was symbolic of their manhoods. Giant dicks for giant pricks.
Except they weren’t really pricks. Just royal pains in her black-and-blue ass. Ivan had really done a number on her last night.
Sighing with remembered pleasure, she tore into her sandwich. Just as she was swallowing, her phone went off. A quick glance showed that it was work. Dropping her food onto the foil wrapper, she grabbed a napkin and wiped her sticky fingers before answering. “Hello?” she replied before it cut off.
“Andersson, Michalov has been in contact. You're on for tomorrow night,” her boss barked, no doubt sitting safely at his desk while his agents risked their lives in the field. “If you're too sick, I’ll have to arrange for someone else to take your place.”
“I’m feeling better already,” Casey swore, hiding her surge of panic.
Nothing was going to keep her from being at Ivan’s side.
She’d be one step closer to Popov. One step closer to closure.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Iosefa hurried along the corridor to the sounds of boisterous laughter. His mind was still on the day before and Casey. Her sickness was worrisome. The change in her scent meant that the transformation to become his and Malik’s mate was in progress. He didn’t fully understand the details. Females were something that he and others of his kind were only recently invested in. No one knew exactly what happened to a fated mate. Not completely. They’d been told that it would change their bodies and ready them to bear their children.
What if Casey was pregnant already?
Iosefa was uncertain how quickly transformation took place or how long was needed before more seed was introduced. Casey could already be unknowingly carrying a child. Guilt tightened his chest. To make things worse, she didn’t recall having sex at the club. Yes, he and Malik had been disguised but they had intended to come clean and tell her their identities. Now things were even more of a mess.
Turning the corner, he found his partner Malik with the rest of his brothers and their guests, the Hell’s Fury MC who had flown in from Las Vegas. Comprised of others of their kind, the biker members of the Order of the Dragon were rough and loud. The club’s two enforcers, Quake and Rock, were their club’s champions in underground fighting rings, where supernaturals paired off against each other. They were on the card for tonight’s fight.
Malik and Iosefa had been ordered to attend.
They had no excuse not to. They hadn’t yet confessed to Tobias what had happened, how they’d yielded to temptation and engaged in an unapproved mating without protection. They had given their seed to Casey and they were certain that her transformation had begun. Remembering how testy Morgan had been, they could only imagine how much worse Casey would be, knowing how she was to begin with.
Malik tossed Iosefa a helpless look across the room. She hadn’t been at home this morning like they’d expected when they’d gone to check on her. They’d assumed that she had left for work. Knowing how ill she’d been yesterday, her absence had left them with nothing but worry. The fight would prevent them from calling on her tonight.
“Iosefa, I hope that sassy blonde you were checking up on in Vegas got home safely,” the Hell’s Fury MC President Stone drawled when he saw him.
Zana’s eyes gleamed across the room with barely leashed amusement. Tobias’s hawk-like gaze zeroed in on Iosefa.
“Yes,” he confirmed, feeling an unfamiliar twinge of jealousy pierce his heart like barbed wire. “She did.”
Stone chuckled. “I’m sure that one has claws.”
Malik growled low in his throat but didn’t respond. Iosefa bottled his stab of hostility towards the biker. He felt possessive of Casey. Protective. Hearing interest for her in another male’s tone brought the urges to posture and stake a claim on their female.
“I hope you're ready for the fight tonight.” Tobias directed the question to their guests. “Lukas will be fighting for us in the ring and he’s rarely been beaten.”
Stone nodded at the club enforcers. “Quake and Rock are our champions. Our bets are on them to win.”
Zana snorted. “They won’t be able to best my partner.”
Beside him, Lukas puffed out his chest. The rest of their cadre cheered in agreement.
Raising his hands, Tobias shushed them. “Remember, this is a goodhearted rivalry. The Dragons are our brothers. There will be no animosity, whichever way the fight may fall.”
“Agreed,” Stone cut in, eyeing his men. “Even though we all know the Dragons are stronger than the Phoenixes. Your ranks are filled with artisans. Ours is filled with warriors.”
Tobias raised an eyebrow. “You think making art means I’m weaker? Want to bet on that?”
Malik moved to Iosefa’s side while the two leaders discussed a wager between themselves.
“Once the fight is over, we will go and check on her.”
Iosefa inclined his head in agreement, knowing they had to be careful using Casey’s name. More than one pair of ears could be listening. Apart from Zana, no one else in the cadre knew of their visits to the blonde ATF agent. Until they found the right time to tell their commander what they had done, they were keeping it a secret.
Tobias’s booming voice silenced the excited chatter in the room. “We’ll be traveling by Jeep. Four men per vehicle. The Orders of the Gryphon and Sphinx declined our invitation to accommodate them, but we’ll see them at the fight and tomorrow for a Thanksgiving feast.”
Eventually, the group was herded outside towards the vehicles they were using. Half of the Phoenixes were conspicuously absent. Zac and Aiden had an appointment with Morgan tonight. Emmett, Theo, Elijah, and Gael were staying behind to keep the Citadel manned.
They bundled into the Jeeps that would ferry them to the site where the underground fight was being held. Other supernaturals and shifters were due to attend. Secrecy would be maintained. No one was permitted to shift due to the humans who always found their way to these events.
Zana drove three of the Dragons. The President of the Hell’s Fury MC rode with Tobias, Malik, and Iosefa. A third vehicle carrying Killian, Cayden, and their fighter, Lukas, had left earlier to prepare their champion for his fight.
It was only six in the evening and the bouts didn’t officially start until eight but they needed to arrive early to check in and find seats. Their destination was an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city, a good forty-five-minute d
rive away. It was discreet, out of the way, and perfect for their purpose.
By the time they reached the venue, the buzz of excitement from the men had doubled. It wasn’t often they got to attend things like this, bringing with it a different form of entertainment. Warrior pitted against warrior. A chance to prove yourself in the ring instead of the heat of battle.
Iosefa had to admit, although his worry over Casey was strong, he was looking forward to seeing Lukas defend their cadre.
They parked the Jeeps and headed into the hangar-sized building. A ring had been set up in the center of the space with rows of chairs around it.
Other competitors with their families, guests, and sponsors were already gathered. Iosefa sensed a whole range of shifters. Not just the wolves and bears he’d seen at other fights. This evening, they had a whole arc of supernaturals.
Mason, one of the MC bikers walking beside him, had his attention glued on a female. The petite brunette sat beside a male with similar features. They were wearing blank expressions on their faces and collars on their necks. The men around them stared down anyone who got too close.
“Wolves?” Iosefa muttered quietly to him. “You don’t usually see them without a pack.”
“The two with collars are, but the other males with them aren’t,” Mason murmured grimly, although he didn’t elaborate.
As their brothers moved swiftly to greet the other cadres who had arrived, Iosefa dropped back to Malik’s side. “There are more people than usual.”
Malik scanned the slowly increasing crowd. “More humans by far this time.”
Keeping alert for any signs of danger, they mingled with the throng. Time passed quickly. The order was given for phones to be turned off. No one was allowed to make videos or take photos. If anyone broke the fight club rules, they would be removed by the event security.
Brothers from several of the twelve cadres had come, some to fight, some to watch. Members of organized crime families were in attendance, placing bets on the fighters, mostly shifters but a few humans, too.
Just before the first round started, a late-arriving entourage passed by and took their seats. Iosefa stared at the lone female with them. She was Casey’s size and had a hairstyle like their female but her locks were Jessica Rabbit red.
He glanced at Malik, who inhaled deeply and looked at him with alarm.
Iosefa inhaled, too.
Casey.
There was no mistaking her scent. Her transformation was underway. Its proof radiated from her skin, leaving bits of her essence in her wake.
Who was she with and why was she here?
They watched intently as she leaned into the male beside her, whispering something in his ear. From the angle they were sitting, they didn’t have a view of her face.
Climbing into the ring, the announcer introduced the first fighters, the young male wolf Iosefa had seen earlier and a bear. Neither was permitted to shift but they both bore superhuman strength. Where the wolf was wiry, slimmer, and quicker, the bear was a lethal mass of muscle. Without gloves, when his unpadded knuckles connected, he was certain to do serious damage.
Each of tonight’s bouts would last fifteen minutes—five three-minute rounds—or until the referees stopped it. When the bell rang to start the first fight, the two opponents began circling each other. The smaller male was fast on his feet. Weaving in and around, he managed to score some hits before the bear’s meaty fist caught him across the face. Its force drove him to the mat. Blood pouring from his nose, the wolf scrambled to his feet. Shifters could take a lot of pain and punishment but a powerful blow from a bear could render someone unconscious. The fact that the wolf was once more on his feet showed his hardiness.
More punches were exchanged. Both adversaries were unrelenting. With a huge cash purse for the ultimate winner of the event, the stakes were high for everyone taking part.
Iosefa’s gaze kept bouncing from the fighters to Casey’s red hair. He was still trying to understand why she’d changed her looks so dramatically. And who on earth was she with? Why was she even here?
They needed answers, and they wanted them now.
A gasp around him drew his attention back to the ring. The slender man’s arm was hanging at an odd angle as he staggered up from the mat. Instead of calling for an end to the fight, he attacked his opponent with a savage cry. From the blank expression he’d been wearing all evening, it was if he couldn’t feel the pain of his broken arm.
“He’s doped. No way is he not hurting from an injury like that,” Mason snarled angrily in the seat beside him. “That’s fucking illegal.”
Others around him caught onto his words. Outraged shouts rose, the protest flooding the room like an undulating wave.
Across the way, the redhead glanced their direction.
The breath in Iosefa’s lungs froze for a split-second. Although the eyes widened in recognition were green, they were set in Casey’s exquisite features.
She clearly wasn’t expecting to see them here at fight night.
A hint of panic crossed her face before she hid it and looked away. She didn’t acknowledge them. Was she afraid that they might acknowledge her in turn? He sensed a rising fear in her. It made him concerned for her safety.
She was an ATF Special Agent. What if she was undercover? Could that be the reason for the red hair and green contact lenses? Or was she simply emulating her roommate Morgan, trying to look more like sisters than friends?
Iosefa scowled, not liking the new color and mourning the loss of her golden locks.
“Casey,” Malik breathed beside him in shock. “What’s happening?”
His partner was feeling her fear, too. It had burgeoned since she’d seen them. Hardly a comforting thought.
Booing echoed through the warehouse as the crowd became restless. Even with the ruckus around them, the wolf kept fighting.
The referees let the injured fighter continue. Spectators objected. They didn’t mind an illegal fight but they wanted some semblance of fairness. Drugs weren’t the way to win a purse. What were his handlers thinking?
“Fuck this,” Mason growled. Bolting out of his seat, he roared, “Stop the fight! Can’t you see he’s doped?”
The next instant, the crowd was on its feet, demanding that the fight be forfeited to the bear. In the sea of bodies, Iosefa lost sight of Casey. By the time the bell sounded and the fight was called, their fated mate had disappeared.
“Where did she go?” Malik surveyed the room with mounting panic.
Pushing past the people around them, they edged to a corner of the space. There was no sign of her or the men that she’d been with.
“Perhaps she is working,” Iosefa told him, not wanting to put her in any danger by announcing what she was. Too many supernatural ears were around. There was no assurance that some of them were not on the wrong side of the law.
Mason was still making noise over the fight. The referee was trying to calm the spectators so the next bout could begin.
Iosefa caught the eye of Tobias, who was frowning at them from his seat beside Stone. They were drawing attention to themselves. This was not good. Not good at all.
Two new fighters squared off against each other. Rock from the Order of the Dragons and his opponent, a lion shifter, went four rounds before the lion went down and stayed down.
Another match pitted Quake against a wolverine shifter. That didn’t last past the first round. Lukas’s match was later. Being the local favorite, they’d made him next to last. His opponent was a vicious badger shifter whose human form was taller and bigger than Lukas. Their five rounds were brutal, leaving both fighters bruised and bloodied, but the decision went to Lukas.
The last match paired one of the Order of the Sphinxes against their brother in the Order of the Gryphons. Two of the same kind of shifters, they were nearly equally matched. The Gryphon was faster and better at reading openings, but the Sphinx had the strength and endurance needed to withstand the punishment he was dealing out. E
xchanging blow after blow, they beat each other into the mat, not stopping until the final bell was rung. A split decision awarded the win to the Gryphon. The crowd erupted, some cheering, some booing, as split as the judges’ decision.
All four of the cadres had been invited to an after-party at the rental where the Gryphons and Sphinxes were staying. They’d decided to combine sports with pleasure and remain in the city for Thanksgiving, sightseeing tomorrow and sharing a meal at the Citadel tomorrow night.
In high spirits, they turned on their phones and moved toward the door, following the crowd as it dissipated. Halfway to the exit, Tobias halted his steps with his phone pressed to his ear.
He looked like he was listening to a voicemail.
Before it was ended, he had tossed a set of keys to Stone and his crew. “Take the jeep.” Tobias looked at his men, his expression grim. “We’ve got to fly. Back to the Citadel, now!”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Casey was still reeling from seeing Iosefa and Malik among the crowd at the fight when Alexei Popov rose to leave and took them with him. She didn’t know what the cadre members had been doing there but she’d recognized the MC bikers with them. Were the men of the Citadel somehow mixed up in this? Did they know about the auction? Or had they simply been attending the illegal fight?
Afraid that she wasn’t going to get answers anytime soon, Casey focused on her mission. Ivan and Alexei were her priorities. She’d dyed her hair and eyebrows and used contacts to disguise herself. It was a long shot any of the Bratva that had attended the fight in Vegas would recognize her, but she had to be careful. Casey was still suffering fatigue from the virus. She felt better than she had yesterday and plenty of make-up had helped her tired appearance.
The dress she was wearing was black, short, and figure-hugging. It didn’t reveal too much cleavage but behind her, the backless design dipped low enough, it barely covered the top of her buttocks.
With his hand pressed possessively to the small of her back, Ivan ushered her away, guiding her through a door and down a corridor. They followed Alexei, the three of them surrounded by Popov’s bodyguards. Noting the bulges of their weapons, Casey took small comfort that Ivan had promised to keep her safe. She was trained to protect herself if things went south. Armed ATF agents were standing by, ready to step in if things turned ugly.
