Monster In Me: Cryptid Assassin™ Book Eight

by Anderle, Michael

  "What fight?" Elisa asked and looked at each of them in turn.

  "Those guys who came to the shop while only you and Bobby were there. Taylor's going to beat the shit out of them while Marino streams it live."

  The ex-reporter smiled. "Hell, I'll watch that shit."

  Niki nodded. "Me too. So that’s everyone, then. It looks like he only told Bobby."

  The others shrugged and she turned her attention to cleaning her suit and making sure it would go back in working condition. The sense of camaraderie was pleasant, as was the realization that she was no longer the outsider as she had always imagined herself to be. Their burgeoning relationship had brought her a little closer into the family unit Taylor’s team had created.

  Something nudged her in the shoulder and she turned as Vickie sat on one of the nearby crates.

  "Are you already finished with your suit?" the agent asked.

  "Coz, I've been working on cleaning suits for months now. If you think I can't clean them faster than you, you now know differently."

  She smirked. "Well, maybe I'll get you to help me with these things. I keep missing nooks and crannies and have to go back to them."

  The hacker nodded and leaned forward. "Uh…it looks like you're doing an okay job to me. More to the point, are you okay with Taylor putting himself on the line like that?"

  "How is that in any way related to my suit-cleaning skills?"

  "You know, in terms of okay…ness."

  "Yeah, right. Well…I've seen the guy throw himself at things that could kill him for a while now. At least this time, I get to be right there with him. More importantly, I'll be able to protect him if shit goes sideways. I might not be the best at dealing with cryptids, but I can deal with humans."

  Vickie grinned. "So you're admitting that you've felt protective about him for a long time."

  "Honestly? Fine. Yes, in the way you feel protective over a big, red-headed puppy that keeps on charging forward at full speed on a linoleum floor and can't stop himself from crashing into the wall."

  The other woman snorted. "Okay, that was good. Now I'll think of Taylor as one of those mastiff puppies with feet and ears too big for his size."

  "That's what I thought too." Niki grinned and bumped the fist her cousin offered.

  Chapter Ten

  The gym had already been closed for almost an hour as Leonard had promised. The old man had come through on his commitment to let them prepare for the upcoming fight. Taylor could have done it on his own, but it wouldn't have been easy and he wouldn't have been at his best.

  Bobby had put in extra hours to help him get in shape. The old boxer, true to form, had considerable good advice to give while he watched and made sure his footwork was up to par. It had been a while since the old man had been in the ring but he still had it. A couple of lighter sparring sessions showed that while the power was mostly gone, his elusiveness was still present.

  This time, though, it looked like they would press at the borders of the man's hospitality. Bobby had said it would be no problem and Leonard wasn't the kind of guy to complain about shit like that. He would simply make a mental note of it and learn from the mistake instead.

  Taylor shifted and moved his feet as he glided around the punching bag. He threw punches delivered more for accuracy and speed than power while the old man set up some metal chairs around the fighting ring for the rest of their little entourage to watch from.

  Learning from a boxer was always a good thing, but Taylor had argued that he would fight two guys in an all-out encounter. The rules were already out the window.

  Leonard had agreed on that part, but he had insisted that the foundations were still important. A solid foundation allowed him the ability to sustain himself in a tough fight where the people who only relied on tricks that helped them win quickly would run out of ideas.

  The old boxer moved to where he worked around the punching bag and folded his arms in front of his chest as he watched.

  "Do you have any last-minute advice you want to share with me?" He didn't feel out of breath but it was still a little difficult to talk while he moved almost every fast-twitch muscle that he had. "You know how the trainer always has the best advice for the budding protagonist only minutes before his fight?"

  "Well, first of all, I ain't your trainer." The man reached out to steady the bag as it began to swing wildly. "Secondly, this ain't only minutes before the fight. This is another sparring session, exactly like the rest. But if you're aching for advice, I guess you need to remember that this ain't a boxing match. There ain't no rules they won't break if it means putting you on your ass. These kinds of assholes are the type that like asking for forgiveness instead of permission, you know what I'm saying?"

  He paused and looked up from behind where his hands covered his face. "You do mean the mobsters, right?"

  "Sure."

  Taylor grinned and took a break to head to his bottle of ice-cold water as he wiped the sweat that had accumulated on his forehead. The rest of the team began to arrive. Vickie pulled up outside in her Tesla. Elisa had caught a ride with her by the looks of it. Bobby and Tanya had already arrived, and the former picked up something from one of the vending machines at the entrance.

  All they were waiting for was an SUV, probably, which would indicate the arrival of Niki with the two men he would fight.

  Sure enough, they were the last to arrive and the two were already dressed like they had been warming up somewhere before they entered the vehicle. Maybe the Aria's gym had a boxing station like this one that would have allowed them to prepare and loosen up for the sparring session they were helping him with.

  He had a feeling they wouldn’t take it easy on him simply because they were technically sparring. While he wasn't sure why he had that idea, it nibbled at the back of his brain and triggered his adrenaline to surge a little more as he moved to the speed bag. There was a sense of excitement in all the new arrivals. Bobby and Leonard already had an idea of what they would see when he got into the ring, but the others had only ever seen him fight in the suits.

  Fleetingly, he wondered what their reaction would be. He would be a little too engaged in the fight to see their expressions in the heat of the moment, but it was something he would like to witness.

  Maybe someone would film it. Desk seemed like she would follow the fight somehow, and he would be able to pass his interest off as wanting to see himself in the ring to judge his performance.

  The two men he would square off against were still warming up and positioned themselves around two of the punching bags. He could see that they weren't merely street brawlers and had real technique. Jansen was sharp in his movements and reminded him of how Leonard moved when he tried to demonstrate something technical.

  Maxwell was larger and a little less refined, but he was taller than Taylor and with a better reach. He reminded himself that he needed to keep that in mind. The man looked like he could put anyone to sleep with a single, well-placed hook.

  The smaller man could probably put anyone out too if he wanted, but the size difference made it a little less likely. He would have to reach up to Taylor, which meant his strikes would be more telegraphed.

  Leonard called the smaller of the two over and fitted him with the kind of padding he would need for the fight.

  "Do you honestly think I'll need all this?" Jansen asked and frowned at the full-torso padding the old boxer was applying. "It's way too stiff."

  "Look, you can bitch about being too stiff or you can bitch about broken ribs," Leonard growled. "And since you're on my property, I'm liable for any injuries that might have been caused if I hadn't equipped you well enough. You’ll have to live with being a little stiffer than usual."

  "Seriously?"

  "Make a believer out of me." The old man patted him on the shoulder. "You're up."

  * * *

  She wouldn’t lie, there were a couple of butterflies in her stomach. Vickie had always imagined what Taylor fighting without his s
uit would look like but had never seen it. She was a little hurt that he hadn't included her in the decision when he'd called Bobby in to train him, but she could at least understand it.

  This time, though, she was there and would watch. She even had chips she'd purchased from the vending machine while she waited for the fight to start.

  Of course, it wasn't like she was rooting for one side or the other in this. She had nothing against the two guys who had been tasked with backing Niki up. Besides, Jansen was being fitted for the fight with more padding than she had ever seen on a fighter. Leonard, the owner of the gym, seemed adamant that it would be necessary, despite the fact that his opponent didn't have any protection except for some wrapping around his knuckles.

  Taylor was usually so calm and collected, which made it easy to forget that he was taller than most football players and with a build to match. As he climbed into the ring and rolled his shoulders, she realized she was staring at the way his muscles bulged beneath the shirt he wore.

  And she wasn't the only one she realized after a furtive look around her. Elisa was seated next to her, and her head tilted as Taylor pulled his shirt off and hung it on the ropes. He jumped lightly from one foot to the other and kept his body in motion while he shadowboxed.

  "If your cousin isn't taking a long, thirsty look at that slab of meat, she might need resuscitation," the ex-reporter pointed out quietly.

  Vickie turned to study her with a deadpan expression. "If my cousin finds out that you're taking a long, thirsty look at that, you'll need resuscitation. Eyes front and center—and maybe to the other side of the ring."

  Thankfully, it didn't look like Niki paid too much attention to the audience while she helped Jansen into the ring.

  "Maybe look into helping him get through a couple of reps to help with his defense," Bobby suggested. He climbed onto the platform as well but remained on the outside. "You're quicker, so keep him on his back foot and see if you can't teach him some of that famous navy boxing style before we get into the McBeatdown part of the fight."

  Jansen grinned at the man around his mouthguard and snapped his hands forward in a pair of jabs into the air to show his speed off as he squared off against his opponent.

  The size difference between the two was interesting to see. The bodyguard was a little over six feet tall and his build was lean and light and his actions fast. The jerky movements were difficult to follow as he warmed himself up inside the ring. Vickie could feel her anticipation building as Leonard circled to his position to the left of the ring, took his seat, and tapped the bell with a hammer.

  The two fighters closed quickly, but Taylor didn't come out swinging immediately. His head lowered and his hands raised in a clear, defensive stance as he faced Jansen. The bodyguard was already throwing jabs and uppercuts to gain an advantage inside his defense.

  The redheaded giant looked like he was defending himself well, but the speed of his opponent was enough to force him back a step, then another.

  "Move your head!" Bobby shouted from the side of the ring. "Engage your hips and don't only defend with your hands."

  Taylor showed no sign that he heard the man, but the effect was almost immediate as he began to move his head from side to side and weave constantly.

  Jansen was still able to connect a handful of strikes that forced him back to the ropes, where he kept his head down and his hands up to protect himself from a direct strike to the head. The smaller man pressed his advantage and delivered a couple of blows to his midsection before the agent feinted a right hook and hammered a jab into his nose that thrust his head back.

  At another attempt to feint, Taylor ducked his head and both hands moved forward. They connected lightly with the other man’s midsection before the large man displayed his mobility, moved away from the ropes, and circled to position himself quickly in the middle of the ring.

  The bodyguard leaned back on the ropes, flashed a grin at his opponent, and took his time to push off. "So, if we won’t have a McBeatdown and since we're taking a pass on that, should there be a different name? Opening a can of Jansen Whoopass? Should I trademark that shit?"

  Taylor rolled his shoulders and his expression revealed no sign that the trash-talking had made an impression. "Are you sure this is the way you want to go?"

  "Throw a couple of punches! Get in this with me!' Jansen jabbed a couple of times into the air to make his point. "If I wanted to fight a punching bag, I'd fight a fucking punching bag."

  Vickie pulled her bag of chips up to empty it of the last crumb inside when suddenly, her attention was dragged to the ring by the sound of a groan and someone impacting the canvas with a resounding thud.

  She snapped the bag out of the way even though she was already too late. Jansen sprawled on the canvas, held his side, and writhed slowly while Taylor took a step away and removed his mouthguard.

  Leonard scrambled into the ring and checked to make sure there was no serious injury, while the bodyguard looked like he still struggled to take in a deep breath.

  "What happened?" she asked and stood quickly.

  "I have no fucking clue," Elisa replied and seemed similarly confused. "Taylor tagged him with a shot to the body and suddenly, Jansen was on the ground like someone had pulled the wires out."

  Bobby clambered into the ring too and the fighter was finally able to take a deep breath. As he was being helped to the side, though, he tried to curl up and cover the place where Taylor’s blow had landed.

  "You had to poke the fucking tiger, huh?" Bobby commented as he helped the man onto a stool Leonard brought in. "You were doing fine until you decided you wanted to try your hand at trash-talking and he put you on the mat."

  The bodyguard nodded but still held his side. "I…tried…to get him…ready for Maxwell. You can't blame me for that, right?"

  "I can blame you for being stupid any time I fucking please," Leonard snapped in response. "How do you feel? Should I call you an ambulance?"

  "It’s a fucking liver punch," Jansen complained and leaned back against the ropes. "Fuck…nah, I think I'm good. A love tap but in the right place. Fucking hell…"

  He rolled off the stool and curled again for a few seconds before he finally showed enough strength to pull himself out of the ring.

  "Sorry," Taylor said and helped him to his feet. "I didn't mean…that…"

  "Sure you did." The man chuckled and winced in pain as he helped him into a seat. "And after my trash-talking, I guess I asked for this. Now get back in there. Maxwell is waiting for his turn."

  He patted Jansen gently on the side of the head before he returned to the ring.

  "Did you mean you didn't intend to hit him there?" Leonard asked.

  He shook his head. "Not really. I did mean to put a little more power and crack into the body shots, but I aimed for the places he wasn't protecting. It was an unhappy accident for him."

  "Happy for you, though," Maxwell pointed out as he entered the ring as well and moved into the opposite corner. "And me too. Not that I'm happy that he was injured like that, mind you, but I have looked forward to taking a crack at you."

  Vickie took her seat again and tried to think through what had happened. She had missed the knockout punch and felt a little cheated by that, even if she had no one to blame but herself for her desire to empty her bag of chips.

  This was a new kind of fight. Maxwell was taller and heavier than Taylor but he looked slower. It made sense since Taylor had trained hard for the past few weeks. Not that Maxwell didn’t train, but he had most likely had something different in mind.

  The large bodyguard didn’t wear any of the protection Jansen had been given but he didn't look like he needed it.

  Taylor looked the same as he had against Jansen. His face betrayed no emotion and seemed almost dead as he stared across the ring at his new opponent.

  Niki had taken a seat next to them, and Elisa leaned closer to whisper in her ear.

  "Will your guy be okay? It looked like he blacked out
when Taylor hit him."

  "I've taken a liver shot in the past," the agent answered and made sure to keep her voice down. "You feel like your whole body switched off and on again. I don't think it did any lasting damage, though, and he'll be fine but it’s still a shock to your system. Several things happen in your body when you take a blow like that."

  "How do you think Maxwell will do?"

  She shrugged before she answered. "I thought it was the mech that made Taylor dangerous, but that was a hard strike to watch. They're tough guys and I almost don't want to watch what comes next. That guy's a killer no matter what skin he happens to wear."

  "Do you think you won’t be able to watch the actual fight live?"

  The agent laughed. "In this case, it's a matter of not seeing the people I like being beaten into a pulp. I don't think I'll have to worry about that when they're fighting for real."

  "So you don't think Taylor will be beaten to a pulp?" Elisa looked a little doubtful but Niki seemed unperturbed.

  "No, I don't think that but we'll see."

  Leonard rang the bell and the two moved to the center of the ring and extended their hands to bump fists before the fight started in earnest. Maxwell started the bout when he moved forward, kept his arms high, and jabbed quickly before he brought a low kick to his opponent’s leg and forced him back a couple of steps.

  Taylor was defensive and covered himself well, but without the explosive speed that Jansen was capable of, the large bodyguard wasn't able to force him back into the ropes. The redhead displayed better footwork as he glided and slid around Maxwell, despite the fact that he was defending himself.

  It felt a little more even. Punches were thrown on both sides, and Maxwell looked like he had the advantage as he retreated to his corner when the bell rang to end the round.

  "How do you feel?" Leonard asked as he checked to make sure there were no signs that the man was trying to hide an injury.

  'Not too bad," he muttered, took a mouthful of water, and swished it in his mouth before he swallowed. "The big fucker's quicker than he looks, but I tagged him a couple of times that he didn’t expect."