Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 65066 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65066 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
I shrug. “Just got a feeling. I think the vamps were addicted to human sweetbloods and now they’re switching to shifters. I wanna know why. Humans are easier prey. Why switch to shifters?”
“Who knows why vampires do anything?” Declan shakes his head.
Parker flicks his lighter thoughtfully. “Maybe shifter blood’s more potent.” His gaze focuses on Jordy. “Is this one of the shifter sweetbloods?”
I snarl and move in front of Jordy, blocking Parker and Declan’s view of her. “Leave her out of this.”
The two misfit shifters exchange glances, but say nothing. I don’t like it. Motioning to Jordy, I pull her in front of me, presenting her to the guys.
“This is Kit,” I say. I don’t want to use her real name and put her at risk. “She’s under my protection.”
“You claiming her?” Declan asks. Jordy sucks in a breath.
“As far as you or any other shifter is concerned, yes. When she’s here, she’s with me. When she’s not, forget she exists. Understand?”
They both mumble that they understand, but they don’t look happy.
“You know something you’re not telling us,” Parker accuses.
“Maybe. Maybe not. Help me, get me intel, and I’ll bring you in.” I rest my hands on Jordy’s shoulders. “You can refuse to help me. But there’s more at stake than our pride.”
Declan swears.
“All right, Grizz,” Parker says. “We’ve got nothing, so nothing to lose. We’ll help you. Finish this errand with the truck and poke around to figure out what we can about the shifter slavers. But watch your back. You go poking around Tucson, Garrett’s pack is not gonna like it.”
“I’ll handle the wolves. Hell, I’ll go talk to them right now.” I wave a hand at the warehouse at the end of the lot.
“I wouldn’t.” Declan pulls the cigarette out of his mouth and pretends to blow out smoke. The whole smoking an unlit cigarette is fucking bizarre, but when you work with these three, weird is what you get. “You’re persona non gratin right now.”
“Persona non grata,” Laurie corrects softly from his spot beside the car.
“What?”
“Non grata,” Parker says. “You said gratin. Gratin is a cheese sauce.”
“I’m hungry, all right.” Declan throws up his hands. “Jaysus.”
I clear my throat. “As I was saying, the wolves will take me back. I tell them I want to stop human deaths and shifter snatchings that bring our community law enforcement heat, and they’ll welcome me with open arms.”
“Go on then, make nice.” Declan jerks his chin towards the shifter Fight Club building. “I want tae see it.” He hops up on the hood of the Camaro, tagging a greasy bag and pulling out a burger. “Dinner an’ a show.”
“You gonna eat with that cigarette in your mouth?” Parker snipes at him and Declan raises his eyebrows.
“So what if I am? What’s it tae ya?”
They settle into their habitual bickering.
“All right,” I mutter. As entertaining as the Declan-Parker-Laurie freak show is, I’m not gonna stick around to watch it. It’s too long and got no intermission. In fact, it never ends.
I start walking towards the Fight Club building, ushering Jordy with me.
“Keep close, Kit,” I tell her, my hand clamped on the back of her neck. It feels right to hold her. “Follow my lead.”
She doesn’t answer but her body moves and responds to mine, taking cues from me, molding to what I need her to be. Alert, attentive. Completely in tune. Fates, she’s fucking perfect.
She stays one step behind me as I stride to the Fight Club door. I used to work here until the Tucson wolf pack found out that I work for the vampires. I didn’t mean anything by it. Frangelico just offered me a better deal—a chance at actually completing my mission.
I slow as I approach the Fight Club door. It’s new and sturdy looking. The last time I saw it, it had yellow tape over it. Someone’s cleaned up the place since I’ve been here, but it feels familiar. My bear thinks of this place as home. Even if the wolves think I betrayed them, I belong here.
Jordy stays one step behind me as I approach, glancing right and left. A bunch of punk bikers have their rides parked alongside the chain link fence. They’re talking and chilling before the bar opens. Cat shifters, from the smell of them. Even if I couldn’t smell them, the way they fuss with their colored leather jackets and run combs through their hair constantly would tip me off that they’re a bunch of pussies. They don’t even ride real bikes, just crotch rockets, which probably makes them cheetahs. Cheetahs live for speed.
They barely glance my way as Jordy and I hit the Fight Club doorstep. Before I can grab the handle, the door opens and a giant shifter looms in front of me. Bright green eyes hit mine. This guy is big, and his animal is bigger—and ready to blow. Direct eye contact with a brawler bear like me is a straight up challenge. Red cape to a bull, gauntlet thrown.