Ellison’s pickup remained in the driveway, but the limo was gone. Had the driver fled? Or had he driven around to pick up Bradley, who could have escaped out the back? Maria moved through the house again, looking around for another way out—faster than trying to run around the vast building and encounter who knew how many walls or other obstacles.
In the rear of the ground floor, Maria found a kitchen, a huge, elegant room with stainless steel appliances and warm wooden cabinetry. Maybe she should show it to Pablo, and have him take photos for his girlfriend.
A door from this led out to a wide area between the house and five-car garage, a building that looked as though it had once been a stables. An iron stairwell snaked down the house next to the kitchen, a fire escape. High above was an ornate door, closed, that led back into the house.
Bradley wasn’t on the fire escape. He was running across the yard toward the garage. The limo raced up from the other side of the house, dust flying as the driver headed to help Bradley.
Maria raised the gun. It was not very big, but square, like a machine gun with a very short barrel. She aimed down at the limo’s tires and squeezed the trigger.
Three bullets spurted from the weapon, and the kick nearly knocked her off her feet. The shots came nowhere near the tires—they popped into the ground by the limo driver’s door and open window.
The limo stopped, the driver staring at Maria with fear on his face. She lifted the gun again, her hands shaking.
The limo jumped forward, swung around, and raised dust roaring off the other way. Bradley glared after it, then at Maria, and ducked inside the garage.
“Ellison!” Maria yelled. “Ronan! Bradley’s out here!”
Her shouts brought no one. The man was going to go for whatever car was in there and get away.
Maria aimed the gun again and fired a few shots to ping against the ground in front of the garage doors. The weapon’s metal felt hot in her hands, and the gun’s kick, though she was ready for it this time, still made her take a few steps backward.
All was silent within the garage. Maybe fear of a young woman with a gun she obviously couldn’t control would keep Bradley in place for a moment.
Maria risked it. She ran back into the house, through the kitchen and out to the staircase hall. The fight had moved to the balcony above, the wolves and cheetahs rolling in a free-for-all, Ronan having backed off as though waiting to find a good opening. Tiger crouched on the stairs, growling, unhappy.
And where had Pablo disappeared to? The man was nowhere in sight, though Ellison’s truck was still in front. Pablo hadn’t taken it, made good his escape, and stranded them there. But where was he?
The iron railing above her creaked and strained. As Maria looked up, one of the supports snapped. The railing teetered under the weight of the fighting animals, then came down. With it tumbled the wolves and cheetahs—one wolf, Broderick, scrabbling to keep his hold on the balcony until the last minute.
Maria fled out of the way. Ellison hit the stairs on his back, the cheetahs’ limbs flailing until they landed on him, claws raking as they struggled to gain their feet. Ellison, still wolf, rolled out from under them, coming to a stand on four paws, panting hard.
Broderick managed to crawl back up to the upper floor, shifting to his half beast to do it. He morphed to fully human as he stood up, trying to catch his breath.
Tiger moved. He came down the stairs almost on his belly, heading for the cheetahs, his ears back, teeth bared. The cheetahs looked at him in uncertainty, then the mad look came back into their eyes, and they charged him, Collars sparking.
At the same time, men poured into the house from the front, the back, all armed. Bradley or one of his guards must have called for backup. A man like Bradley could afford the best, and the men who came in, at least two dozen of them, were large, grim-faced, and hard-muscled—likely ex-military, ex-mercenary, ex-convict. They aimed at the Shifters, who’d be mowed down.
Maria yelled a warning. A few of the hard-eyed men glanced at her then walked on, not seeing her as a threat. She still had the gun, held down and behind her back, but her fingers were slick on the trigger. Could she shoot another human being? And if she started shooting, would they simply train weapons on her and obliterate her in seconds?
Her cry had alerted Ellison. He was moving again, racing up the stairs, Ronan coming down toward him. Tiger saw the men and roared, rising to his full height. He put himself in front of the cheetahs as the first shots were fired, a bullet bloodying his fur.
Ellison turned and leapt over the last curve of staircase, landing on one of the mercenaries before he could get off a shot. His Collar sparked as he rolled over the man, the gun clattering away.
The others split off through the staircase hall, aiming, firing. Tiger herded the cheetahs back upstairs, toward the room with the steel door. Ronan and Broderick had ducked behind walls when the bullets started flying. They were big, tough Shifters, but shots could still kill them.
Ellison fought alone. He bloodied the man, while one of the merc’s colleagues tried to get a clear shot at him. The rest were moving up the stairs, or through the house, hunting, searching, shooting.
What could Maria do? Whatever happened, she had to stop Bradley. And save Ellison. As soon as Ellison came up from subduing the man he fought, the second man would shoot him.
If this were one of the many TV shows she watched, she’d come up with some clever way to bring down all the bad guys, who’d obligingly drop weapons and look defeated and disgruntled. Maria had the feeling it wouldn’t be that easy in real life. These men were professionals, who would shoot Ellison and the others, get Bradley safely away, and then go have coffee.
Maria ducked into the living room, where Bradley’s men had originally taken Pablo, but the room was empty. She plucked a cell phone from the man Pablo had shot in the hall and punched in a number. Bradley had called backup; she could too.
She’d dialed Dylan’s phone, but she wanted to cry when Connor answered. “You’re all right!” she whispered.
“Yeah. Groggy, but all right. Where are you?”
“Where’s Dylan?”
“Driving. Maria, I asked you—where are you?”
“At Bradley’s. We need help.”
Connor started to speak again, but his words cut off to be replaced by Liam’s voice. “Lass, you stay put; make sure Bradley stays put. We’re coming. Where to, exactly?”
Maria opened her mouth to answer, then the cell phone was yanked from her hand, and a punch landed across her face. She went down, pain exploding through her, the gun falling from her numb fingers.
Ellison was there in the next moment, the giant gray wolf slamming into the man who’d hit Maria. The merc lost hold of his weapon, sending it sliding across the rug. Ellison landing on him, breaking the arm the man stretched toward the gun. The merc screamed, and then again as Ellison’s paws rendered his head a bloody mess.
Another weapon clicked, a second merc with an automatic weapon raised and pointed at Ellison. Maria scrambled to her feet, face aching from the first punch. She launched herself at the man, thinking to grab his arm to train the gun away from Ellison.
Crimson burst over the merc’s face, and he fell gurgling. Dead. Maria gaped past him to see Pablo, his small pistol back in his hands, his eyes almost as cold as Bradley’s. The bang of the gun filled the room and made Maria’s ears ring.
Ellison climbed off the other man he’d knocked down, that merc out. Ellison’s wolf sides heaved, his jaw bloody, scratches and blood in his fur. He shook himself, nose wrinkling at the smell of death.
“You’re welcome,” Pablo said to them. “Where’s Bradley? I can’t afford to let him live.”
“In the garage.” Maria’s jaw hurt when she spoke, and she worked it. “Last I saw. He could be long gone by now.”
“Let’s go find out.” Pablo had lowered his gun but didn’t holster it. “I called my own backup, but if we don’t get the hydra, I’m a dead man.”
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Ellison shifted. He rose onto strong legs, his torso bruised and abraded, his face bloody. He limped to Maria, still breathing hard, and put an arm around her.
“You all right, sweetheart? I’m sorry—I couldn’t stop him in time.”
Maria rubbed her cheek. “I will be. I’ve had worse.”
She had, when she’d been prisoner of the feral Shifters, but the answer made Ellison’s eyes fill with fury. His arm tightened around her, but his touch on her face was tenderness itself.
“They found Connor,” Maria said quickly. “I told Liam to come, but I didn’t get a chance to tell him where.” The cell phone on the floor was cracked and dark.
“My girlfriend will tell him,” Pablo said. “She’s hacked all the calls in and out of here. From a safe distance—I told her to get the hell out of town until this is over.” He gave Ellison an admonishing look, as though Ellison should have done the same with Maria. Not that Maria would have listened.
Pablo led the way out, through another door and around to a back hall. More gunfire sounded, and over it came the roars of Tiger and Ronan. Maria wanted to run and make sure they were all right, but Ellison steered her firmly out.
They had to fight in the kitchen. Ellison shoved Maria down behind a counter and shifted into the state between wolf and human as more of Bradley’s mercs opened fire on them. A few of Pablo’s men—one of them Maria recognized as a mechanic at Pablo’s car shop—were pinned down here, firing back. Pablo joined them, Ellison slinking under their fire to tackle one of Bradley’s mercs.
Maria crawled behind the counter to the door, then sprinted out. Another two mercs were down outside, one unmoving, one groaning, both unarmed. Maria hurried past them in time to see one of the garage doors open, a gray Cadillac emerging.
She’d dropped her weapon when the other man had knocked her down, and Pablo had grabbed it on the way out, giving it to one of his men in the kitchen who’d run out of ammo. Now Maria could only stand helplessly and watch the car come out of the garage. Bradley was getting away, but what could she do?
The answer came from a deafening roar behind her. The sound pounded through the house, vibrating it like a small earthquake.
Maria had heard it once before, a lion’s roar. The lion Shifter that bounded toward the car was Dylan, black maned, his Collar silent, rage in his white blue eyes. He roared again, an alpha male in his full strength. Behind him came Spike, his naked human form covered with tats, and another black-maned lion—Sean. Sean was followed by a wolf that looked like Ellison, only a little smaller and finer boned.
The wolf stopped beside Maria, then it froze as the Cadillac accelerated, swerving to avoid the Shifters. Maria saw Bradley behind the wheel, his face still expressionless, his glasses shining.
Beside Maria, the wolf’s shape distorted and jerked, a Shifter changing before it wanted to. It rose into the form of Deni, who stared at the car, her face set in horror.
“That’s the one,” Deni said, her voice barely a whisper. “That’s the car that hit me.”
Ellison, in his wolf form now, along with Pablo, had run up to Maria’s side in time to hear her. Ellison looked at Deni, understanding and rage in his wolf’s eyes.
He burst away and charged the the car, slamming into its side and forcing it to turn. Sean ran and leapt, landing on the car’s trunk, and Dylan planted himself in front of it, his lion’s roar breaking the air.
Bradley jerked the car sideways, tires sliding, choking dust rising high. His hand spun the wheel until the car came out of its skid, and he headed straight for Maria and Deni.
Ellison and Dylan tried to sprint ahead of it, Sean climbing to the roof, his claws leaving long gouges in the car’s body.
Deni, motionless, watched the Cadillac come at her. Pablo grabbed both women to yank them out of the way, but Deni came alive.
She snatched the gun out of Pablo’s hands, aimed it, and fired three practiced shots through the windshield and into Bradley’s head.
The car kept coming. Maria slammed herself into Deni and Pablo, pushing them out of the way. The car rushed past them, Bradley’s dead foot still on the gas, and crashed, head-on, into the house.
The car’s engine spluttered and died, and all was silent.
Chapter Sixteen
Ellison stood in the ring at the fight club, naked, flexing his hands, ready to go. His ribs hurt, his torso was streaked with deep scratches, and his neck ached from too many shocks of his Collar, but still he was here.
Shifters filled the vast space of the abandoned hay barn out east of Austin, the darkness broken by trashcan fires, huge flashlights, and LED lanterns. Broderick climbed over the cinder blocks that marked out the ring, a big smile on his face. He had come away from the fight at Bradley’s relatively unscathed and exuded confidence he’d win the Challenge.
Fuck that.
Ellison felt the pull of the growing mate bond with Maria, stretching between him and her as she stood outside the ring with Spike and Ronan, Ellison’s seconds.
Connor stood next to them, too keyed up to stay home. He’d been restless and hungry after they’d all made it back to Shiftertown, Connor eating everything in sight and insisting he go to the fight club. Cubs weren’t technically allowed at the fight club, but Connor was given slack tonight, with the approval of all Shifters. Though he wouldn’t fight, Ellison imagined that Connor would find a way to work off his steam. Apparently Bradley had taken him because a woman had asked Bradley to find her a strapping young Shifter for her entertainment. Pablo had related this after he and his girlfriend, restored to Austin, had gone through Bradley’s desk and computer.
Maria stood close to Connor, her shoulder touching his. Ellison scented her goodness, her courage and passion.
He also scented that she was very, very angry.
Maria had argued long and hard for Ellison to not meet Broderick tonight. By the time they’d all limped back to Shiftertown, Maria driving, Ellison was sore, tired, clawed all over, and aching from a couple bullets that had grazed his arm.
At the same time, he was buoyant. Maria loved him. The mate bond was forming. He’d had the joy of holding her in his arms, being inside her yesterday in the soothing pond. Tonight, after he battered Broderick until the man begged for mercy, Ellison would carry her home and take her to bed.
That is, if he could still stand up.
Around them, Shifters shouted and laughed. Broderick’s pack stood behind him to cheer him on. The air was thick with scents of anticipation, eagerness, and mating frenzy. A Challenge brought out the mating need in Shifters, both male and female.
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.