Eric grew colder as he listened. “What was in the cages?”
“Nothing. They were empty. I couldn’t smell anything but the men. They put the cages into the first building, then they all got back into the jeeps and drove away.”
Eric thought about the layout of the place, the tidy rows of buildings with the air conditioners on the top. “We need a look inside there.”
“Want me to teleport in?” Reid asked. “I could have a quick look around.”
Reid could only teleport to a place he’d seen or been to, or so he’d said. He’d come out here with the trackers to have a look before, which is why he could teleport Eric so close, but he’d have to get a look inside one of the buildings before he could will himself into one.
“Not yet,” Eric told him. “We don’t need a guard to see you. I don’t want them alerted that anyone knows about them until we find out more.”
Diego and Xav’s research had drawn a blank so far on the compound and what was in it, they’d told Eric. They’d found the place via satellite photo but couldn’t zoom in close enough to have a good look, and they couldn’t find plans or building permissions for the compound. Xavier had promised to look for something more covert, but so far, he’d turned up nothing.
Reid shrugged. “It might have nothing to do with Shifters.”
“True,” Eric said.
But the mention of cages bugged him. Sure, the people here could be out to capture mountain lions, maybe for some zoology professors to study. But mountain lions were few and far between, and it was unlikely they’d need to be prepped for five of them.
Not good. Not good.
“We’ll keep an eye out,” Eric said. “And have Diego and Xavier keep looking for info. If it has nothing to do with us, then it has nothing to do with us, but I want to know.”
“You’re welcome,” Jace said. “I’m going back to Shiftertown to get some sleep.”
Jace turned his back and walked away, sun strong on his bare back. He’d gotten a tattoo in stages this year, across his shoulder blades, a prowling leopard in full color. Eric watched him go, proud that his son was so strong and upright, and still as worried about him as he’d been when Jace was the cute little cub who liked to chew on Cassidy’s shoes.
Then Eric grimaced. “Wait, Son. I need to ride back with you. Teleporting makes me sick.”
Jace kept walking. “Suck it up, Dad,” he said, then he shifted, jumped back down into the wash, and was gone.
Iona spent the day helping people move. The bulk of the Shifters from Graham McNeil’s Shiftertown would start arriving the next day, and houses had to be cleared for them.
Iona had called her mother after breakfast. Penny hadn’t been happy that Iona had let Eric take her to Shiftertown, but she agreed to wait and see what happened. Iona heard tears in her mother’s voice when they hung up, and her heart burned.
She worked off her anger by lugging boxes. She, Cassidy, and Diego carried boxes and pieces of furniture from porches to Iona’s truck, and then to the porches of the houses that the Shifters were moving into. Cassidy, as pregnant as she was, carried plenty, though Diego was after her to rest a lot.
Iona offered to carry the boxes all the way into the houses, but her offer was declined by their owners—politely but firmly. She was to set everything on the porch and come no farther inside.
“Why?” she asked Cassidy when they took a breather. “You’d think they’d welcome the help.”
“Shifter secrets,” Cassidy said between sips from the bottle of water Diego had brought her. “If you were just visiting, that would be one thing. But they’re clearing out their houses from top to bottom, and want no one outside their clan to enter until they’re settled.”
“You’re talking about the underground spaces Eric wants my company to build in the new houses, aren’t you? And the Shifters don’t want me to see what’s in them.”
“They don’t want me to see either, or Diego. Every pride, pack, and clan has its own space, and even the Shiftertown leader doesn’t get invited in. We have to keep something of ourselves totally private.”
“I understand.” Iona was curious, but she’d respect their wishes.
The Shifters they helped, though, didn’t seem to worry about invading Iona’s privacy. They asked about her family and who her Shifter parent was, gave her frank and assessing stares, and openly sniffed her. No one was aggressive, only curious, but very much so. She admitted her father’s name after some initial reluctance, but no one had heard of Ross McRae.
The sniffing bothered her though. The Shifters would lean close to her and inhale, then give her another grave stare and nod.
They were checking her scent, Cassidy told her, because Eric had scent-marked and mate-claimed Iona. They were acknowledging that Iona belonged to him.
“I don’t belong to anyone,” Iona said irritably.
“Doesn’t matter. They still know to keep their hands off.”
Luckily—or maybe it was planned—they never saw Graham or the few Lupines who’d come down from Elko with him.
By the time Iona drove the last load and returned home with Cassidy and Diego, it was late afternoon. Eric was there, with Jace and Shane, who were both giving him advice about tonight’s fight.
Eric listened to them while he sat on the edge of the couch, arms on knees. Listening, not arguing.
When Iona walked in, Eric was off the sofa in one fluid motion, moving to her side. He pulled her close, nuzzling her hair. “I missed you,” he said.
She’d missed him, she realized. More than she really should have.
Iona turned her head, and Eric covered her mouth in a warm kiss. The others in the room kept talking together, as though they didn’t notice.
Diego and Cassidy fixed another magnificent meal, and they ate in the living room, sitting around on couches, chairs, and the floor, in Jace’s case. Jace filled in Cassidy about what they’d found out at the compound, and then Shane and Jace turned the conversation back to the fight.
“The rules are simple,” Shane said. “You can fight in any form you want—human, animal, or between—but no weapons allowed. No one can enter the ring to help you once the fight starts, and when the referees declare the fight over, it’s over. That’s about it.”
Eric nodded, taking it in as he ate Diego’s fabulous pollo en mole verde. “As long as Graham follows the rules, we’re fine.”
“That’s why you have seconds,” Shane said, “to make sure both sides follow all the rules. We have to make sure you do too, Eric.”
“I get that. I asked Diego to be my other second—humans are allowed to be, right?”
“Sure,” Shane answered. “Humans go to these things all the time. They can be seconds, even refs, but they can’t fight. Way too dangerous.”
“Dad,” Jace said from where he sat on the floor, his empty plate on his lap. “I thought I’d be your second.”
Eric shook his head. “I don’t want to give Graham any excuse to get near you, or to blame you if the fight goes wrong. I don’t even want you there tonight, but I have a feeling you won’t bother obeying that order either.”
“No, because I don’t like Graham anywhere near you. He’ll try to take you out, Dad. If not in the ring, then afterward in the parking lot. I’m not letting you go unprotected.”
“How about if I ask you to stay here and keep watch over Iona?”
“Forget that,” Iona said. “I’m going with you.”
Eric growled. “Do none of you understand how dangerous McNeil is?”
“We’re all going,” Cassidy said. “Get over it, Eric.”
Eric growled some more, but said nothing. Iona sensed his uneasiness, his conflict over what to do. She understood why he wanted his family out of harm’s reach, but on the other hand, he wanted them close where he could watch over them, and where they could all protect each other. It had to be hell being so paranoid.
“About time to go, then,” Diego said, ever practical. �
��I’ll grab Xavier on the way. I’ll try to talk my mother out of coming, but I can’t guarantee she’ll listen.”
Eric’s blood was hot by the time they reached the location of the fight club.
He’d always known where it was, tucked deep inside an old casino resort, about thirty miles outside of town, that had closed years ago, too remote and expensive for anyone to buy or redevelop. The advantage was that the road to it wound around manmade hills that screened the abundance of vehicles and milling Shifters from any cop passing on the highway.
Eric had never attended the fights, wanting his Shifters to be able to work off steam without worrying about hierarchy or what their leader would think. Eric pretended not to notice the majority of his Shifters disappearing any given night, and they pretended to think he didn’t know. He trusted his people to keep themselves in line and not get caught. He also trusted his trackers, like Brody and Jace, to keep everyone relatively safe.
The dark parking lot was already packed with vehicles by the time Eric and his party arrived. Iona drove Eric and Shane in her truck, the right half of the little pickup listing from Shane’s bulk in the passenger’s seat.
Eric followed Shane through the hordes of cars and people to the other side of the resort, where a wide space on what had been a golf course had been cleared down to the dirt. Circles were marked here, five of them, so more than one fight could occur at once. The darkness was broken by fires flickering in trash cans, and in fire pits or grills people had brought with them. Some had brought lantern flashlights or battery-powered work lights—in short, anything portable that didn’t need to be plugged in.
The crowd of Shifters and humans parted under the mismatched glare as Eric approached, with Shane and Diego. Iona came right behind them with Jace, Cassidy, Xav, Brody, Nell, and Diego’s tiny mom, Juanita. All weapons had to be left at the entrance, so Eric didn’t have to worry about Nell helping things along with a shotgun.
The Shiftertown’s Guardian, Neal, was already here, the hilt of his huge sword rising over his left shoulder. The Guardian’s sword would dispatch a dying Shifter to the Summerland, rendering the Shifter a pile of dust, his soul freed. Neal was a necessity, but the other Shifters gave him a wide berth.
Graham was already waiting near the center ring. By tacit consent, no other fights would go on while the two Shiftertown leaders battled, so the other rings were empty.
Graham’s seconds came forward to meet Diego and Shane. One of Graham’s seconds was the nephew, Dougal, whom Eric had smacked down for attacking Shane. The other was called Chisholm, a young Lupine from the second-highest-ranking pack in Graham’s Shiftertown. Eric had made it his business to know the lineage of every single wolf Graham was bringing with him from Elko.
Chisholm spoke first, addressing Shane. “Your fighter understands the rules?”
“He does,” Shane rumbled. “Yours?”
“He’s made himself familiar with them.”
“No interference,” Shane said.
“No interference.” Chisholm nodded.
Chisholm and Dougal were wary of the huge Shane, but Eric watched the two try to best Diego with a stare down. Diego, however, didn’t flinch, and the wolves backed down first.
To Graham’s credit, he didn’t even look in Iona’s direction as they waited for the fight to begin. Graham was respecting the Challenge. The warriors would concentrate on the fight, and the one who remained standing would then claim the female. She was off-limits to the Challenger until he won. At least Graham knew how to follow Shifter rules.
Diego turned to Eric. “Ready?”
“Let’s get this done,” Eric said.
His followers started an immediate volley of advice and encouragement behind him. “Kick his ass, Eric,” Nell said.
“I’ll tell you what I used to tell my boys,” Juanita Escobar said. “Fight dirty if you have to, but come out looking good. Don’t just win the fight, win respect.”
Cassidy gave Eric a warm hug. “You’ll do it, Eric.”
Iona remained apart, her dark hair stirred by the wind that had sprung up over the desert, her light blue eyes gleaming in the odd light.
Damn the Challenge, and damn the humans who’d decided Graham should be moved to his Shiftertown. Eric could be holed up with Iona somewhere right now, teaching her not to be afraid of her mating need. Instead he was standing here in a crowd of excited and smelly Shifters, waiting to battle an asshole in a stupid posturing fight.
Eric put his hands on Iona’s shoulders, caressing with his thumbs. “Don’t worry. I’ll finish here, and we’ll go out for pizza.”
Hunger flared in Iona’s eyes. “Don’t talk about pizza.” Her arms stole around his waist. “Seriously, Eric, be careful. Like you said, he’s tricky.”
“Yeah, but so am I.”
“No kidding.” Iona pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “I hate everything about this, but…Nell’s right. Kick his ass.”
Eric grinned, gave her another kiss, straightened up, and strode to the ring, where he stripped off his clothes. It was time.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
As unhappy as Iona was about this fight, the woman in her appreciated the sight of Eric’s honed, naked body as he walked toward the ring. His back was straight, shoulders broad, waist tapering to firm buttocks, unashamedly bare.
He moved as calmly as ever, even though he was about to fight, maybe to the death. Iona had come to realize that Eric’s nonchalant stance, like his casual sprawl on the sofa, hid a man sharply aware of everything around him. He was poised to spring even now as he stood waiting for the fight to begin.
The referees entered the ring first, three Shifters and a human. Iona wondered how they’d been chosen—who organized these fights anyway?
Graham had stripped down, the man as big as Eric, and even more broad of shoulder. The hair on his head was buzzed short, but he had thick wiry hair on his chest. Red and black fire tatts wound down his arms, more wild than the neat jagged black pattern down Eric’s right arm. Graham’s eyes were white gray, stark in the dim light.
The cold knot in Iona’s stomach tightened as the refs stepped back and Graham and Eric entered the ring.
As soon as the refs signaled the start of the fight, the noise around her became insane. All Shiftertown must be there, the Shifters shouting, yelling, screaming, or roaring and growling.
Diego’s diminutive mother had made Xavier find her a box to stand on so she could see. She and Nell were hollering, hands around mouths. Cassidy shouted as much as they did, the other Shifters and Xav not drowning her out.
Iona couldn’t make a sound. She watched from the edge of the ring as Graham and Eric circled each other in silence, each assessing the other, each waiting for an opening.
As the crowd’s noise escalated, Graham finally attacked.
He remained human but dove at Eric, rage in his eyes. His Collar sparked, but Graham totally ignored it to slam himself into Eric.
Eric shifted as the man came down, and rammed all four wildcat paws into Graham.
Who became a wolf. Graham’s wolf was huge and black, his red mouth open to show gigantic teeth. Eric’s leopard snarl reached even over the crowd noise as he let himself fight.
The refs circled, but what went on in the center of the ring was too fast to follow. Cat and wolf fought with whirlwind madness, paws striking, teeth tearing, dust billowing. Blood flowed, both on Eric’s white fur and Graham’s black sides.
Graham’s Collar kept arcing snakes of blue, the thing never letting up, but it didn’t slow him down for a second. Eric’s Collar remained silent, which no one but Iona seemed to notice.
As the fight continued, something started happening inside Iona. The hunger that was driving her crazy didn’t abate, but a new sensation rose to match it.
Fury.
Eric was fighting for his life, fighting for her. Graham was pounding him, the wolf larger than the wildcat, though the leopard was plenty fast.
Another alpha was
beating up her mate, and here was Iona, stuck on the sidelines, unable to go to his defense because of the stupid rules of the fight club.
What would they do if she ran in there? Simply stop the fight? Declare Graham the winner? Didn’t matter, because Iona wasn’t about to become Graham’s mate, regardless of how the battle turned out.
The Challenge was more symbolic, Eric had tried to explain—he was out here to put Graham in his place.
The wildcat inside Iona didn’t give a shit. She saw Eric battling, and the need to get in there and save his ass surged within her until her vision filled with red haze.
Her body started to change to the panther, never mind that she’d rip her clothes to shreds, and a long growl came out of her throat.
Cassidy glanced at her. “Iona?” She leaned to her. “You okay?”
Iona couldn’t answer. The Shifter in her was taking over, and she had no Collar to stop her. She could kill Graham and, as Eric had said, go out for pizza.
She took a step forward, but Cassidy grabbed her with a strong hand. “I know,” Cass said in Iona’s ear. “I know how it feels. But you can’t.”
Iona shook her off. In the ring, the wolf and wildcat were tearing each other apart, bodies rolling around in a tight ball, the refs circling them, trying to decide what was happening.
The refs would never be able to pull them apart in time. One of those Shifters was going to die, and if Iona had anything to say about it, it wouldn’t be Eric.
The need to defend him rose like a black tide. She snarled as she ran forward—and came up against the bulk of Shane.
“No,” Shane shouted at her. “He’ll have to forfeit if you put one toe in the ring.”
Iona switched her rage-filled gaze to Shane, who took a startled step back. Iona pinned him with her glare, willing him to get out of her way, promising silently that she’d rip him open if he didn’t.
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