“I’ll be with you,” Blaire said low. “We’ll have each other’s backs, okay? Let’s go get your mate back.”
“My mate,” Mila whispered as Blaire got out of the truck. She didn’t wear a jacket so Mila left hers on the seat and slid out of the jacked-up truck behind Blaire. Asher was already striding for the trees, as if he knew exactly where he was going, so they followed, Mila jogging to catch up.
Blaire cast her a glance over her shoulder. “Mila, chin up my strong girl. Shoulders back, don’t let them see your weak side. Don’t let that gaze drop to the ground. Not tonight. If anyone asks questions, speak like you know what you’re talking about.”
“Big bad wolf tonight,” Mila said on a shaky breath.
“Hell, yeah,” Blaire murmured with a nod. Her eyes were glowing brighter green now. Mila’s were probably the color of champagne, but it couldn’t be helped.
Thanks to the high-heeled boots, it felt like they hiked two miles into the dark woods, but it was probably no more than two hundred yards. There were four men standing like sentries, two on either side of a door of an impossibly small building. Their eyes were glowing as they checked the ID of a man at the front of a line five-men deep. One of them glanced up when Asher led them to the end of the line. He nodded a suspicious greeting and went back to checking a list pinned to a clipboard.
One spoke into a radio about the man who had been approved and coming down stairs. Okay, so the small building was probably just a stairwell that led underground.
Mila got more nervous when they opened the door and allowed the man into the dark building, then shut the door again. By the time there were only two men left in the line in front of them, Mila’s heart was hammering, and her breath was coming in shallow pants.
Asher looked over his shoulder at her, snarled up his lip, and bore his white teeth in the dark. “Settle,” he demanded as soft as a breath.
Her inner wolf sank down deep inside of her, and Mila had to grit her teeth against the whine that clawed its way up her throat. Asher kept staring at her with those blazing silver eyes, and whatever he was doing was working because Mila could finally drag in a long breath. A steadying one.
The wolves on duty were huge. Massive chests, powerful arms, thick necks, at least six-five, all of them. They smelled like dominant titans. They looked like Asher and Gentry. Problem number one: there were four of them but only two of the Striker brothers.
Problem two: a trio of human men appeared on the trail through the woods, talking low about some, “Finale fight,” and in front of Mila, Asher and Gentry looked at each other. She didn’t know what they said to each other with those looks, but they both nodded at the same time.
Blaire hooked her finger under Mila’s chin and lifted it. In the dim light, she arched her eyebrow in a gentle reminder to watch her posture. Oh, yeah.
Mila inhaled deeply and straightened her spine as the last guy in line was allowed through the door. They were up now, and surrounded, because the guys from the woods were now standing in line behind them. Mila’s inner wolf writhed to Change and flee. Fuck.
She closed her eyes and blew out a soft breath as Asher stepped up to the guy with the list. Surely he had a plan, or a name to give them, but nope, Asher just reached forward in one blurred, graceful motion and snapped the man’s neck. The break sounded like gunfire in the woods. Mila stood there frozen as Gentry slammed his fist into another guard’s face.
The line behind them surged forward, yelling. One started running off, but Blaire tripped him and dragged him back, shoved him toward where Gentry and Asher were engaged in a violence Mila couldn’t take her frozen gaze away from.
Mila.
She got shoved hard in the back.
Mila.
She slammed into the side of the building.
“Mila!” Gentry said, yanking her toward the door.
Blaire was already standing in the open frame, gesturing for her to hurry. The oldest Striker brother was at war with two of the guards. And Asher, Mila realized, was really, truly good at war.
Stunned, she bolted for Blaire and slipped into the darkness with her. She skidded down two stairs and caught herself on the railing as something slammed against the door behind them. Please don’t let that be one of our guys.
Blaire gave her a bright-eyed look and whispered, “Let’s go.”
A wave of protectiveness washed through Mila. Blaire looked scared, too, and it changed something inside of her. She would have Blaire’s back tonight, no matter what.
Steeling herself, Mila whispered, “It’s me and you. Okay?”
Blaire nodded once, but the whites of her eyes were showing around her irises. She was a new werewolf, new to the violence of this life. Mila took her hand and led her carefully down the dim stairwell.
At the bottom was a long hallway lit by hanging lightbulbs. The walls on either side were painted in murals with horrifying scenes of beasts ripping into each other. The place smelled like blood and made her wolf draw up inside of her—not to run, but to be wary.
There was a man at the end, guarding a heavy-looking metal door. He smelled human, thank God. Humans were easy to lie to. Still, he was huge, dressed in all black, and was twirling a giant knife in his hands. He glared them down as he held up the radio to his lips. “Sanger, what’s going on? Are these girls good?”
He took his thumb off the button and waited as static blasted across the radio.
“Is there a problem?” Blaire asked, calm-as-you-like. She was looking him dead in the eyes like a badass. Okay then.
Mila glared at him, too, and canted her head. Hopefully the lights were dim enough to hide her eye-color.
“Sanger,” the guy asked again. “Let them pass or no?”
“Seriously?” Mila asked Blaire. “We drove all the way out here for this shit?”
Blaire shook her head like she was pissed. “Maybe we should take our money elsewhere. I wanted to see the finale, but this feels sketchy.” She turned to leave and Mila made to follow.
“Wait!” the guard barked. “Sanger,” he barked into the radio.
“They’re fine,” came the answer.
Sure sounded like Asher’s voice, but the guard yelled into the radio, “Dammit, Anderson told you to answer immediately. If you have to take a shit, hold it until after the fight.” The guard jammed his radio in the sling at his hip and twirled the knife again like he was showing off. He dragged his eyes down Mila’s body and gave a wolfish grin. “You like bloodbaths then.”
Mila’s stomach curdled, but she answered, “I don’t trust people who don’t enjoy a good bloodbath.”
The guy licked his bottom lip and nodded like hell yeah, then gave three knocks on the metal door and yanked it open. “Enjoy the show, ladies. Come see me after if it revs you up.” As Mila followed Blaire through, he murmured too close to Mila’s ear, “I’ll take good care of you.” Lie. His voice held a big lie. Monster.
She forced herself not to shrink away from him and gave him a wicked smile instead. “Aw, don’t tease me now. I may take you up on that.” When she turned around, she gave a terrified look to the back of Blaire’s head and tried her best to sashay her hips as she made her way down a short hallway that opened up to a bigger room.
The sound of cheering, stomping, clapping, and whistling was deafening, and for a moment, Mila stood next to Blaire in stunned awe. The place was huge. She couldn’t have imagined a place like this could exist out here. It was well lit, so she could see everything clearly. In the center of the room was a huge dome-shaped metal cage. Around it were tons of people crowded, cheering. On the walls, there were fancy box seats, like they were in an old-fashioned theater. Men in suits sipping drinks sat there looking down at the cage.
Down on the lower level, Blaire and Mila were dressed just right. There weren’t many girls, but the ones here were wearing the same kind of get-up. Along one wall were mattresses with transparent curtains. On the beds, where everyone could see, couples were openly
having sex.
“Oh, my gosh,” Mila said on a breath. There was something in the air here, something awful, a destructive energy that pressed against her shoulders.
“Come on,” Blaire said, ripping her gaze away from some guy giving it doggy style to a girl wearing white make-up and nothing but a black leather corset. “We need to find Roman and get out of here.”
“Drinks?” a girl dressed in a see-through net bodysuit asked. Her eyes were hazy and her make-up smeared, but she held a tray of blue shots steady enough.
“Sure,” Mila said, taking one. Go with the flow and all, but the second the nearly-naked server walked off, she and Blaire looked at each other and subtly sniffed the drinks. They smelled drugged. Nope. They both emptied them out nonchalantly on the dirt floor as they made their way toward the cage.
Mila had a really bad feeling about what they would find there. A huge part of her didn’t want to look, but she knew she had to. Blaire grabbed her hand when she slowed and pulled her through the crowd. It was so tight around the cage, and the men were groping Mila and Blaire both as they moved farther in, but they didn’t quit until they were on the rail, within arm’s length of the wide bars.
“I wouldn’t touch that,” a tall, lanky man beside Mila advised. He tossed his empty drink cup at it, and sparks flew. Mila stared in horror as the half melted plastic cup hit the ground. “They electrify it to keep the wolves from escaping and biting us. Pretty clever, huh?”
Right now, there was nothing in the enormous cage. “Is it over?” she asked, daring to lock eyes on his.
Excitement flashed across his face. “That one is. Too quick if you ask me, but Anderson’s set up another double feature.”
Mila forced a smile and hoped it looked excited and not disgusted. “What’s that? It’s my first time here?”
“Are you fucking serious?” the guy asked, grinning so big. He would’ve been handsome if not for the stink of absolute darkness on him. “God, I can’t wait to watch your face. First fights…there’s nothing like them,” he said dreamily. He maneuvered himself behind her and locked his arms on either side of the rail around her, trapping her. “I’m Shane.”
“She’s mine,” Blaire said.
“Your girlfriend?”
“I like to call her my mate,” Blaire said with a flirty smile.
The man didn’t back off an inch. “Role-playing, I like that. And you both wear the bright contacts. I’m thinking of having my teeth filed.”
“Mmm,” Mila said. “So sexy.” Barf. “So explain the double feature.”
“Oh, you’ll love it. Anderson—he runs this place—well, he got his hands on some super-bloodline of werewolf a couple days ago. That’s why the crowd’s so fucking big right now. He’s a total brawler. I saw him fight last night. A ripper, dead eyes, massive wolf. Born to be a slayer, he has the genetics to be a legend here. Anderson’s gonna give him to one of his pets first, see if he can pull out a win and prove himself.”
A man appeared from the side door of the cage, and Blaire lurched forward, dropping her plastic shot glass against the bar like it was an accident. No sparks. Mila and Blaire locked gazes, and Blaire jerked her chin toward the door. Mila got it. There had to be a switch over there that turned off the electric current when someone was entering or exiting the arena.
“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” Blaire said, shoving off the railing.
“Now?” Shane asked, his eyebrows arched high.
Blaire gave an empty smile as she passed. “I’m meeting someone in there.”
“Oh, shit. Get it, girl,” Shane said with a perverted chuckle.
Mila didn’t like being split up from Blaire at all. And it wasn’t just because she was alone with Shane, who still had her trapped against the railing. It was because she couldn’t protect Blaire if they weren’t together.
The bruiser who had entered the ring lifted his hands, and the cheers became so loud Mila hunched at the pain in her ears. He played it up for a while, putting on a show, and then finally he tamped his hands down and settled the crowd.
“That’s Anderson,” Shane whispered in her ear. Mila wanted to punch him in the throat, but forced herself to stay still.
“Ladies and gentle-monsters, do I have a treat for you tonight!” He gestured to the door, and two men strode in, graceful, muscled-up, scarred, bruised, cut, battered, dirty. The first one she didn’t recognize at all, but the second she knew from scent alone, even before she could see him from behind the other titan.
“Roman,” she murmured.
His eyes had been on the ground, but at her soft whisper, he lifted his gaze directly to her. A moment of recognition sparked there, but then he tore his gaze from her quickly. She’d seen it, though. The haunted emptiness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.
Anderson had been talking, revving up the crowd, but Mila’s head was filled with only a roaring sound as Roman made his way to one side of the cage and walked the edge slowly, glaring at the crowd as Anderson introduced him. He stopped before he got to Mila, then paced the other way, every rigid muscle tense as he clenched his wrapped fists. Why wouldn’t he look at her? She was right here. Why wouldn’t he look?
Closing the gap on seven feet tall and heavily muscled, the other guy was massive with a black mohawk. Tattoos covered his upper torso, arms, and neck. His eyes were what scared her the most. Such a light brown, and completely empty. Just…dead as he watched Roman pacing across the arena. He probably had been handsome once before he turned killer. Anderson introduced him as Slade.
Anderson left the arena, and Roman scanned the curve of the cage above him. He was breathing faster now. God, he looked like a warrior, all streaked with blood and grit and dirt, his six-pack flexing with every breath, his shoulders bulging, his eyes the color of melted gold.
Look at me!
“If he wins this match, he’ll fight again immediately,” Shane explained too close to her ear.
“Back off her,” Roman snarled, jamming a finger immediately at Shane.
“Whoa,” Shane said, easing off her by inches.
Roman’s face was twisted up in a feral look that dumped terror into her middle. She almost didn’t recognize him. It was as if his smile lines didn’t exist anymore. He twitched his attention to the brawler approaching him slowly. “Mila, get out of here,” he murmured so low she could barely make it out over the cheering of the crowd.
He had to live. She couldn’t just leave right now while he was about to do this. Two fights would determine whether he would keep breathing, and either way, she had to stand behind him. Had to figure out a way to help. “Who does he fight next?”
Shane pointed across the arena. “Him.”
Rhett stood there against the railing, his chin lifted high as he stared down at Mila with a satisfied expression. He didn’t look weak anymore, and his neck was healing quickly now. Perhaps Odine’s magic didn’t reach this far. His eyes matched the brawler stalking Roman—dead.
Of course he would make sure Roman was exhausted from a battle before he challenged him. Rhett had no honor.
Coward, she mouthed as fury pounded through her veins.
A slow, evil smile stretched his lips as though the insult meant nothing to him. I win, Bottom Bitch.
She hated him. This was all his doing. His fault. He was supplying wolves to this place. This was where half of the Bone-Rippers had disappeared to. He’d brought the ones who defied him here, to this hellhole. And then he’d fought them against other supes like they were nothing. Like they didn’t matter, but they did. They had. They mattered to her.
A long, low snarl rattled through her before she could stop it. Shane backed off like a clever little human who’d just figured out he was standing too close to death. She wanted to bite him just for watching this shit. Just for being here. Werewolves weren’t the animals here. It was these people, screaming for blood, their eyes bright with excitement at the thought of senseless death. Bloodthirsty monsters. Now she
understood why Odine had been scared for Roman. Mila spun a slow circle and looked around at the cheering, jeering crowd, crying out for blood. For Roman’s blood. Might as well be her blood.
Behind her, she heard and felt Roman clash with the titan. When she turned around, Roman had him up in the air. He slammed him to the ground, then went to town pummeling his face. Three hits, and Slade bucked him off and swung his fist at Roman’s face. He rolled at the last second, and Slade bellowed as his hand crashed onto the dirt floor with a crack. Dirt exploded where he connected. The fight lasted for an eternity, or for a few seconds, it didn’t matter. Every moment was agony on Mila’s wolf as she stood there helpless, watching the man she loved fight for his life. They locked up so many times, traded punches, traded cracked ribs and split lips. Traded their souls to the darkness maybe because the longer the fight went on, the deader Roman’s eyes looked. Senseless war was ruining his wolf. Mila didn’t want to watch, but couldn’t take her eyes away from Roman’s lethal grace. They went to blows, hitting, locking up, hitting, locking up, until in a rush, Roman threw Slade against the cage.
“Oh, my gosh,” Mila said, wincing away as the metal hummed the second Slade connected with it. His body went rigid right before he slammed to the ground.
Relief welled inside of her as Roman stalked the titan.
“Change!” Shane yelled. And it wasn’t just him. Others in the crowd were yelling the same thing.
“Change, Change, Change.” It became a chant, and Roman froze, looking down at Slade, his face completely void of any emotion. He looked like a robot, and a wave of nausea took Mila’s stomach.
“Change,” Anderson yelled from where he stood by Rhett across the arena.
Roman went to his hands and knees, fists clenched before he let the wolf rip from his skin.
It was taking Blaire too long to cut the power to the cage. Something was wrong, and when Mila scanned frantically the masses, Blaire was nowhere to be seen. Fuck waiting around, she had to move now. She bolted through the crowd, pushing and elbowing to make room. There was this humming sensation pressing against her chest that she didn’t understand. It smelled faintly familiar in here, too. It was like Odine’s magic, but different. Darker.