Unleashed by Shadows (By Moonlight Book 10) (16 page)

Oscar shrugged with pretended indifference. “Maybe I wasn’t playing on the right team.”

Betz’s grin never faltered. He put out his hand to Cale. “I’m—”

Staring through the blank of his dark glasses, Cale cut him cold. “I know who you are. You had your chance, and you had to be an asshole. Your loss. Oh, and my brother-in-law says suck it.” The man’s heavy features went purple. Ignoring him, Cale put an arm about Oscar’s shoulders, walking with an exaggerated strut to the bleachers to retrieve Ozzy’s belongings. Neither looked back. “C’mon, baby bro. I’ll give you a ride home.”

“But I live across the street.”

“We’ll cross it Terriot style.”

He climbed on, hanging on tight. Cale popped the clutch to jump the bike and let it fly, making a growling pass between furious coach and the players still lingering on the sidewalk with mouths open. And though dying to let them fly, Oscar tucked both middle fingers safely into his uncle’s leather.

Cale kept the bike idling while Oscar climbed off in his driveway. Over the muscular engine’s rumbling, he told the boy, “Don’t ever apologize for who you are. You’re a prince in the House of Terriot, and my brothers will see no one forgets that. A time will come when they’ll want you and your momma to go with them. I want you to promise that you’ll go, no questions asked. They’ll make sure you’re safe. Will you do that for me?”

He didn’t have to think about it. “Yes.”

“That’s my man. You’ll do well. I know it.”

Oscar got an uncomfortable feeling, but before he could voice his concern, Cale put the bike in gear, and with a tight circle, roared away.

*

A night made for making money, for moving up another step on the entrepreneurial ladder. Seating for the main ticket match had gone for a cool grand a piece and was sold out within minutes of going live on their carefully shielded site.

Because of Mick Terry. A wild card, a pain in the ass. But he knew how to draw a crowd.

Looking up at the exclusive attendees in the racketball court stands, Casper Lee experienced a moment of euphoria. He’d questioned his decision not to kick Terry loose after his unvetted stunt, blaming the Shifter’s extremely nice rear, as well as his pretty apology, for clouding his judgment. Now, he thanked his greedy stars that both had swayed him.

Terry was going to make him a fortune. Then, he’d enjoy collecting on his promise. He smiled wryly, not sure which he anticipated more.

“They’re here.”

He nodded, allowing himself to indulge in a moment of self-congratulating excitement. Until his insider’s next words cut the heart from his pleasure.

“I have the information you wanted.”

Lee tensed, refusing to let anxiousness betray him. “What did you find out?”

“He’s staying at The Saint with those three very lovely Terriot brothers. He’s not alone.”

Jealously stabbed through the heart he rarely claimed to have. “Is he with one of them?”

“No. A female.”

His jaw tightened until words were difficult to speak. “Describe her.”

“Blonde, petite, pretty in a soft way.”

The female from the club who claimed to have a past with MacCreedy.

They were lying to him!

“For just the night?”

“For a lot of nights from the way they acted with each other. Do you want me to find out more?”

He struggled with that question for longer than he should, weighing his reasons for wanting, no, needing to know. Finally, he said, “Find out who she is and what they are to one another. If she’s going to be a problem, I’d just as soon get it,” and her, “out of the way now.”

A quick nod before leaving.

His rum and cola shattered against the impact-proof glass.

So much for Terry’s claim of celibacy.

Time for the tempting little fighter to find out how distracting he could be.

*

“Get ready in here. Someone will come for you when you’re up.”  Their grim-faced escort pushed open the locker room door, putting up a hand to bar Nica. “This isn’t a place for females.”

Nica gestured to the sign on the door. Ladies. “I believe I have more of a right than they do.” She pushed by him.

The fact that Cale had no wiseass comment only deepened her concern that something was very wrong. He went to the row of sinks without a word to splash water on his face and drink from his hands. Nica glanced at her husband, brow raised. He shrugged.

“Are you up for this?”

Cale paused, letting the water spill back into the sink. After drying his face on his forearm, he regarded Silas stoically. “I’m here, aren’t I? I said I would be. I don’t need you to tell me what my role is.” His statement held no hint of the mood still hidden behind his dark glasses.

He’d arrived at LaRoche’s place right on time and had said little since then. His phone had rung several times, but he merely glanced at the screen before putting it away. This time, as he took a seat on one of the benches, when it rang he simply turned it off.

A second later, Silas felt his cell vibrate. He murmured a quick, “Back in a second,” and stepped out into the hall. The voice on the other end did a poor job concealing panic.

“Is Cale with you?”

“He is.”

“Is he all right?”

“I guess. Do you want to talk to him, Kendra?”

“No, that’s all right. If he wanted to talk, he would have picked up.”

“Are you all right?”

“I spent the day going on tours of the city and can’t remember a single thing I saw. We had an argument last night. He walked out.”

“Ah. That would explain the guest in our spare room.” When her relief gusted loud enough for him to hear, he asked, “Do I need to kick his ass for you?”

Kendra gave a soft sigh. “No. That’s okay. Don’t tell him I talked to you. But I’d like him back tonight if you can make that happen.”

“I will if I can.” A promise easier made than kept.

*

Cale stretched, put on his brain-bleeding music, and moved through a brisk warm up, but none of the usual things could calm his spirit.

Tonight things would change. And nothing about the life he’d coveted for so long would ever be the same again. The obstacles he’d meet in the ring didn’t concern him. He knew his abilities were equal to the task and his motivation would fill in any blanks. He worried about the conditions he’d have to meet to get there.

It was a small, special venue. Three matches. The winners of the first two would meet in the third. Two rounds. His coming out party. The first combat would be in human form. If he survived it, he’d be expected to return in full Shifter glory to end the final bout. Permanently. And he’d do it with an infamous flare so they’d be clamoring for more.

The diminutive fight hustler O’Leary peeked into the locker room, his smiling dark face preferred over Lee’s icy avarice. “Two minutes, Mick.” To Silas, he cajoled, “Money where your mouth is, Creed?”

Silas glanced at Nica who opened her useless for anything but cash evening purse to count out an impressive spread of Benjamins. “Mama needs a pair of shoes,” she told the little man who laughed in appreciation.

“If he does good this should get you a closet full. The crowd likes him, but they’re still putting their money on the headliner.” To Cale, he called, “Good luck in proving them wrong. You win tonight, your future’ll be changed forever.”

Exactly what he was afraid of.

Now he wished he’d taken that last phone call.

When O’Leary had gone, Silas regarded him impassively. “Ready?”

“I’m a Terriot.”

A wry smile. “Yeah, I know. Always ready to rumble. Don’t play with him. Put him down before he has a chance to hurt you.”

“That’s my plan.”

His entrance music started up, AC/DC, hard and loud like him. Cale could hear the crowd roar in anticipation. He put his tightly wrapped fist to his lips, whispering, “For you, my queen. Forgive me.” Then, chin high, shoulders back, he strode toward the arena with all the arrogance of his clan behind him.

But it wasn’t enough.

*

“Is he all right?”

O’Leary’s voice reached through the roar in his head like ripples in a puddle during a hurricane.

“He’s fine.” That was Silas, all gritty and fierce. “He’ll be ready.”

“Here’s that money for your lady’s shoes. He didn’t win pretty, but he won big. Feel like reinvesting some of it?”

“All of it.”

“Thought you didn’t like to gamble ’less it was a sure thing. I’ve seen Ivo fight, and he’s had a chance to rest up. He might just tear your boy to pieces.”

“All. Of. It.”

“Okay. Better get him cleaned up. Casper’s on his way down. He don’t look happy.”

The wet towel lifted off his face. Cale squinted up at MacCreedy who’d stretched him out on one of the benches after having to half-drag him from his questionable victory.

“Still alive?”

Cale groaned, struggling to sit up, needing Silas’s help to accomplish it. “Not sure.”

“Get sure. You’ve only got fifteen minutes, and Lee’ll be here any second.”

Nica knelt down in front of him to wash the blood off his face. No sympathy showed in her hawkish features. He didn’t expect any. “What happened?” she demanded.

“He wiped the floor with me.”

“I’ve seen you fight. How did he manage to take you?”

Wasn’t how had he managed to survive the real question?

“It’s the Kick. Hard to put them down when they don’t feel pain.” Cale had looked into those solid black eyes and had seen his own ugly death. “Taking him out was dumb luck. I don’t think I’ll be that fortunate a second time.”

“Are you quitting?” Silas asked, providing a cup of water without a hint of his own feelings on the matter.

Cale drank deeply and replied, “No. I think I’m dying.”

“Don’t just think it.” Casper Lee stepped into view. “If you don’t go out there, I’ll be pulling the trigger on you right here and now. You made some mighty loud noise and some awful big promises to just crawl away whimpering now.”

That sneer had the desired effect. The cup crumpled as Cale’s hand clenched tight. He rose up, steady but not quite as strong as he’d wish, to confront the flashy entrepreneur in his mulberry colored designer suit.

“I don’t whimper, and I don’t quit.”

Lee laughed unpleasantly. “This is the big game, Mr. Terry. There’s no room for half measures or cold feet. These fighters are tuned so tight, they could trigger an earthquake. They’ll do whatever it takes to stay on top. I thought you were someone like that. Was I wrong?”

When Cale didn’t answer, Lee looked to Silas. “You’re the cool head here, the one who understands business. He took a beating in front of everyone. No one is going to expect him to put up much of a fight. You were willing to bet it all that he can. You said you wanted inside. Make that move. Now. You’ll be writing your own ticket if he wins. I can make sure he does.”

Silas regarded him thoughtfully, glancing at Cale, then back again. “I want more than just a bankroll. I want in.”

Casper laughed. “Damn you’re cheeky. I like that. Talk to your boy. When we’re sweeping up cash by the buckets full, we’ll come to terms you’ll like.” He turned back to Cale. “I’ve spent time and money toward your success, and that’s not something I give away for free. It’s time to pay to play, Gunslinger. If you plan to go back out there, it’ll be on my terms or not at all.”

Cale hesitated. This was the reason he’d been brought to New Orleans, this rare chance to step inside the inner circle to uncover the unpleasant arrangement Lee had with his rogue brother. His chance to stop James, and for once earn the respect he’d scrambled for since childhood. How could he throw it away?

He’d be a collared animal. Raging like a beast. A slave to the monster Lee wanted to release inside him. If he took that step, he’d be crossing a line. He could never go back again.

His promise to his mate weighing heavily on his heart, he replied, “I won’t do Kick. I can take him without it.”

Lee smirked. “Big talk for someone about to be strangled by his own words. You’ll die in that ring, and I’ll be out my investment. I’m not about to let either of those things happen.”

Cale looked to Silas where he never expected to find support. He braced for MacCreedy’s disdain, for his sneering condemnation as he gave his head a slight shake.

What he got was a jolting surprise as Silas said, “I guess we’re out.”

Before Cale could overcome his astonishment, Lee gave a nod to the two burly Shifters standing at the door. One caught Silas about the neck to yank him off balance while the other pinned his arms and drew a blade. The wicked point went, not to his throat, but to his inseam where it pressed to a femoral artery. Nica’s quick step forward froze at the first sight of blood.

“A word and your manager bleeds out before you can beg for his life. What’s it going to be, Mr. Terry?” Casper asked with cold clarity. “The drug and the collar or a mop and a casket?”

Cale weighed grim options. If he broke his word to Kendra, he’d lose her. If he allowed Silas to die, same outcome. No win for him. But he could save MacCreedy and become, if not true blue friend, then at least a martyred ally.

He put out his hand and quickly swallowed down the capsule Casper placed in his palm. Even before he drew a full breath, the remembered heat boiled through him, scorching along the channel of his veins, burning muscles and tendons. A magnificent, powerful heat. He closed his eyes, letting it consume him, hating the way his body embraced that claiming fire. The heavy weight of the controlling collar about his neck no longer mattered. He’d lost control the instant the chemicals entered his system.

Cale opened his eyes slowly. The world seemed to pulse in time to his rapid heartbeat.

A knowing smile spread on Casper’s face. “Take Mr. Creed and his lady to my box. We’ll watch the match together then do some renegotiating.” After the uneasy pair was pulled from the room, Casper turned back to Cale, his expression almost tender. “You’ll thank me for this, Mr. Terry, for letting you become what you were born to be. A warrior. A champion.”

A killer.

*

Seated together front row center, hands tightly clasped out of sight, the MacCreedys got their first look at the competition. Huge, with muscle stacked upon muscle, Ivo the Terrible was cause for alarm. The crowd greeted him with the blood lusty cheers due an obvious favorite that increased in volume as he flexed. And changed. No mystery. No theater. No hocus pocus to hide the fact that the fighters they’d come to see were not human. This audience knew exactly what they were getting. Which was why the payoff was massive.