Chapter 14
Brick
Bodies press in, a miasma of sweat and blood hanging thick on the air. The floor is slick with fluids. My coat is soaked in them.
As a human, I’d be aware of the whole room–the arguments, the infighting, the alliances formed and broken as the factions of my pack fight for dominance. I’d scan the loose circle of wolves forming a fighting arena for the challenge, and see who I recognize. See who I’d rank the most dangerous.
For the wolf, there is none of this. There is only the now, and the giant gray and tan wolf lunging for my throat. I turn, so the teeth score my side and use my bulk to knock him off balance. He snaps at me, but I’m too fast. I catch his right rear leg in my jaws and rip a chunk out of him.
When he scrambles to face me, he’s limping.
From there it’s short work for me to dart forward and overpower him. I flip him to his back and set my teeth at his throat. I bite but don’t clamp down.
“Yield,” someone shouts. Probably Nickel, hoping to insert some common sense into the chaos. “Damn it, yield!”
My wolf waits. He’ll respect any wolf who submits. He knows the pack needs as many fighters as possible to remain strong, so if a challenger acknowledges my leadership and dominance, my wolf will let them live.
But the wolf on the ground does not yield. I crunch down harder, tasting metal. A jerk of my head and it’s over. The wolf below me grows still.
Another challenge over. Another life lost.
I step back and shift. In man form, I’m naked and stained with blood. My left leg and right side throb where previous challengers got some good bites in.
Vance and Nickel rush forward to grab the dead wolf and drag him out of the circle cleared for my fights. They toss the body onto the gruesome pile of those who have challenged me. None have yielded. They’d rather die than submit to my leadership.
I pace the circle, meeting each glowing gaze. Some of the spectators avoid my eyes. Some stare back, but eventually all of them look down. I’m still the biggest and baddest here. But there’s no shortage of challengers, and eventually the fighting will wear me down.
A heavy body hits my back. Teeth tear into my flesh. I snarl and turn, but Jake is already there. He doesn’t bother to shift, just grabs the errant wolf by the scruff and tail, and hurls it aside. The crowd parts, and the wolf hits the wall, hard. It slides down and is still.
“No fighting out of turn,” Jake growls. A few onlookers growl back, but he bares his teeth and they slink away.
“Who’s next?” I call before more wolves decide to rush me.
Lowell Hunt’s son steps before me.
I search for Lowell in the circle surrounding us. “You’re sure?”
Lowell’s eyes flare bright green. Then he turns his head away.
His son, Junior, spits at my feet. “Face me or yield.”
I’ve hunted with these wolves. I’ve fought beside them. We’ve shared a kill and then a beer around the barbecue at a pack gathering. I know their families, fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers. And now they’re my enemies. They’re standing up to me, one by one, and watching their own pack members get cut down. Lowell Junior’s cousins stand by, ready to challenge me after he falls.
When will it end?
If it weren”t for the faint scent of Madi in my nose, I’d go mad.
I give myself over to the wolf and leap for the kill.
* * *
Madi
Billy breaks speed records zooming me across the river.
I keep a death grip on my seatbelt. “The meeting is in New Jersey?”
He grunts. “There’s too many of us to meet in the usual spot. It’ll attract attention. But nobody cares what happens in New Jersey.”
He weaves his souped up muscle car through a wasteland of a commercial district somewhere south of Newark and screeches to a stop beside an ancient brick warehouse. A faded sign leaning against a wall announces the place as “Blue Moon Burlesque, Discotech and Rodeo.” Billy parks illegally behind a dumpster and hops out.
I accept his help getting out of the car, wishing I’d had a few more minutes of drive time to compose myself. I guess it’s better to get this over with.
Billy leads me through the back door, into the darkness. Shouts and stomps echo around. It’s like being backstage at a concert–and then the smell hits me. The thick musk of wet dog, overlaid with the sharper scent of new pennies. Fur and blood.
Prickles run up my arms. The last time I was surrounded by shifters, I’d been kidnapped. My body remembers the desperate moments, the terror. Warrior shifters with red eyes and sharp, oversized teeth. Adrenaline fizzes in my blood, screaming at me to “Run!”
Billy pauses, glancing back at me. His eyes flare bright blue. I blow out a breath and set my shoulders. “I’m ready.”
He tries to lead me further, but there’s a crowd on stage. A bunch of shifters cram side by side until no one else can fit, jostling each other, yelling, and staring at something below. I can’t see what they’re watching. A few of them turn as I approach. Their eyes flare brighter.
“Human,” one of them mutters in a way that makes me feel dirty.
Billy growls at them. He puts a hand at my back, guiding me to a side set of stairs. We step out into the light, and the bottom drops out of my stomach.
When I imagined a pack meeting, I imagined something like a Moon Co board meeting–the kind in a big conference room. Rows of shifters in three-piece suits seated in folding chairs that strain under their powerful frames. At most, I imagined them standing and shouting like brokers on the trading floor. I’ve been to some late night meetings in the boardroom that got vicious. Corporate types can be animals. Especially lawyers.
The chaos in front of me makes lawyers look civilized. The hall is a seething mass of people, many of them half naked with glistening muscles on display. Shifters in furry form wind between the clusters of shouting humans. It’s louder than a football match, if the sports event had giant wolves in attendance and constant brawls breaking out between the spectators. People are screaming at each other, red in the face. Wolves snarl and snap at everyone and everything in their paths.
Billy nudges me. “You okay?” His voice is raspy like he’s been up all night drinking and shouting.
My breath shudders in and out of me. My hand is at my neck to protect the vulnerable spot.
I have a plan. I hope it works.
If it doesn’t, I might die here tonight.
But at least I’ll die beside Brick.
“Where”s Brick?”
Billy turns me to face the wild knot of people towards the front of the hall, in front of the stage. A half circle of onlookers protects a bare patch of concrete–the only empty space in the room. The people on stage lean down and jeer at the two wolves fighting.
“Those are the challengers,” Billy points out the row of shifters standing in the front of the circle. Most are men, the biggest and brawniest I’ve ever seen. “Brick has to fight every one of them.”
“How many has he fought?”
Billy points beyond them, to the far wall. “Those are the losers.”
It takes me a moment to register what the towering pile of blood-stained fur is. Dead wolves. So many of them.
I clamp my hand over my mouth. I am so out of my depth here. I could’ve had a hundred conversations with Catherine and Brick about their world, and it wouldn’t have prepared me for this.
This isn’t a pack meeting.
It’s the apocalypse.
“The alpha must face every challenge,” Billy continues. “He has to defeat them all in a fair fight.”
“But it’s not fair,” I burst out. “There are hundreds of them–he has to fight them all?”
“That’s the best case scenario.”
“What’s the worst case?” I’m afraid to ask.
“The rest of the room decides there’s no hope, and they all turn on him together and kill him.”
Oh my God.
“These are desperate wolves,” Billy says. “Without a strong leader, they know they’re in danger. A wolf in danger, with no options, goes feral.”
I sense the desperation. It hangs overhead, thickening the air. I see it in the eerie bright eyes, the flashing fangs.
These wolves have lost hope. Brick is fighting for them, but he needs help.
But what can I do? I’m one woman in a strange new world.
I’m not completely unarmed. After Sweden, I bought myself a weapon. It’s small and fits into my coat pocket, and I’m not sure how effective it’ll be against 200 plus pounds of shifter muscle. A bazooka might be the only thing that would stop a werewolf, and there’s not just one here. There are thousands.
Someone spots me, does a double-take and lopes over to the small staircase where Billy and I stand.
It’s Nickel. The British wolf is the most disheveled I’ve seen him–his shirt unbuttoned and smeared with dark red. His hair’s on end.
I barely recognize him until he says in his cut-glass accent, “For Fate’s sake, why did you bring her here?”
“I had to,” Billy says. “My wolf recognizes her as alpha.” He shifts on his feet and mutters, “She used the voice.”
Nickel blinks and looks at me with new eyes.
“I’m here to help,” I tell him.
“How?” He looks at me like I’m a puny human too weak to do anything.
I stare into his eyes.
Rule number one of Wall Street: never show weakness.
If I think I’m weak, I will be.
Strength isn’t always about muscles and speed. Fangs and claws.
“Get me on stage,” I order. I don’t know what Billy means by the voice, but I infuse my tone with all the force and certainty I can muster.
Nickel straightens. After a moment, he angles his head slightly, dropping his gaze. “Your funeral,” he murmurs, which isn’t exactly a vote of confidence. But he turns and shouts for Jake and Vance.
Jake and Vance emerge from the crowd and leap up the stairs to close around me. We shuffle backstage.
I’m the center of the knot of four men. Billy’s at my back, Nickel in front. I feel like Goldilocks surrounded by four papa bears.
I push to tiptoe, but can’t see over Nickel’s broad shoulder. “Get me on stage,” I say with more confidence than I feel.
“This way.” Nickel charges forward. A few men stand in his way, their eyes on the crowd below, and he savagely shoves them away. They growl, and he snarls back, showing thick white fangs. “Come on,” he motions.
Someone plows into Jake, and I’m jostled as he whirls and snarls. Blood flies. Vance gets a face full. He licks his lips, his eyes gleaming.
My stomach drops to my toes. What am I doing? This is crazy. A part of me wants to run and hide.
But then I see Brick, in the center of the fight. His huge wolf is twisting and turning, fighting to bite his opponent or pin him. His fur is matted, dripping. He’s still standing strong, but there’s a slowness to his movements. A delay. And a dullness to his eyes I don’t like.
He’s killed so many, and has so many more to kill. He won’t stop until the bodies are piled to the ceiling.
So much death. So much waste.
“Stop it,” I’m whispering. “Stop it.”
Enough.I step up to the microphone. “Listen up.” The mic screeches, and a bunch of wolves howl.
Behind me, Nickel, Jake, and Vance shove wolves off the stage. Billy’s at my back, a low growl rumbling in his chest.
On the floor in front of me, Brick pins his opponent, but the other wolf is biting into the top of his leg, coming dangerously close to reaching his jugular. A few wolves on the sidelines push forward, snapping at him. Another second, and the circle will break, and Brick will be underneath a pile of desperate wolves.
I have to stop this. Now.
“No,” I snap. “Stop this, right now.” I sound like a mother scolding a room of unruly toddlers.
A few wolves turn, nudging each other until most of the crowd faces the stage. “Human,” they mutter. Some of them lick their fangs.
A part of me wants to cower and hide. On the floor at my feet, Brick’s opponent has latched onto his neck and is pulling him down. Someone has to save him.
That someone is me.
You are his mate, Madi. That means you are destined to lead the pack at his side. As Brick’s equal.
“Any wolf who challenges the alpha has to answer to me,” I shout.
That gets their attention. The whole room turns as one, focusing on me. Their eyes narrow, taking me in as if I’m their enemy.
On the floor, Brick’s opponent looks up at me. Brick uses the distraction to jerk out of its hold. He stares up at me. A jolt runs through his body.
A distinguished looking man with silver touching his temples calls, “Who are you?”
Rule number two: act like you belong.“I’m Madison Evans. And I’m Brick Blackthroat’s mate.” I tug my collar aside, showing the mark Brick gave me.
“A human,” the man sneers. “What are you going to do? You are too weak to fight.”
I feel Billy hovering at my side, ready to leap to defend me if necessary.
“Come closer and say that to my face.” I keep my voice completely even. Totally cool. I’ve stared down a conference room full of Wall Street bros. I can do this.
I allow a small smile to play around my lips as if I know something they don’t. My eyes water looking into the older wolf’s fierce gaze, but I force myself to keep staring.
After a moment he blinks and looks away.
“Good,” Billy murmurs.
A ripple goes around the room, but it’s not enough. I feel the weight of all eyes on me. One wrong move, and they’ll attack.
“Madi,” Brick rasps. He’s shifted into human form. He’s naked, muscles gleaming with sweat and swiped with blood. There are claw marks on his chest, his giant thighs.
I ignore him and point to the wolf in the circle with Brick. “Are you challenging my mate?”
The wolf shakes off droplets of blood and shifts into a powerful looking young man.
“I am,” he says in a gravely tone. He looks like a prize fighter. Brick is taller and a little bigger, but Brick’s been fighting for hours. There’s fatigue in the slump of his shoulders.
“You challenge my mate, you have to deal with me first.”
Billy tenses beside me.
“No,” Brick rasps, but the young man is already stepping forward towards the stage. He sees easy prey.
“What are you going to do, human?”
“I’m so glad you asked.” I pull my weapon out of my pocket.
Rule number three: Always be prepared.
I put the small, white whistle to my lips and blow. Hard.
The whistle makes no sound, at least not at a pitch I can hear. But the room erupts. Those in wolf form yelp, tails tucking. Human and wolf alike freeze, their spines contorting with the agony.
The young fighter throws his hands over his ears.
I blow on the whistle again, and he doubles over. “Agh,” he cries. “Make it stop.”
I wait for the high-pitched whines and whimpers to die away. I hold up the dog whistle.
“Had enough?” When the fighter doesn’t answer fast enough, I put the whistle up to my lips. “I could do this all day.”
“No,” the fighter shouts, along with the rest of the room. The wolves are hunched, staring at me with fear.
“That’s what I thought.” I drop my hand and the entire room lets out a sigh. “Now shut up and listen.” I channel my inner schoolmarm–like my mom does in front of a pack of entitled rich kids–and lecture them. “I was told the Blackthroat pack was the strongest around. But now I’m here to meet you and what do I see? Chaos.
“Odin tried to kill me in Sweden. He failed. Because your leader, Brick Blackthroat is strong. He has the strength of his pack and his friends. They stood together, and they defeated their enemies. Because our enemies are nothing when we bond together.
“But today you tried to break that bond. You tried to destroy it. Shame on you!” I glare down at each waiting challenger until they avert their eyes. “You are better than this.”
I step forward, spreading my hands. “We need everyone in this pack. Not just to beat the Adalwulfs. But to defeat the fear that drives you apart.”
I lace my fingers together. “If we stand together, we are unstoppable. No one can break us apart. Not the Adalwulfs. Not anything. Am I right?”
No response.
I raise the whistle and waggle it like a magic wand. “I asked, am I right?”
“Yes,” the room thunders.
I use the whistle to point to the fighter.
“Yes,” he shudders and bows his head.
I search for the older wolf and point the whistle at him. Unbelievably, he’s smiling. “Yes, luna.” He drops his gaze.
A shiver runs down my spine, followed by a rush of heat. I sway on my feet, light-headed.
Brick leaps onto the stage. He approaches me, his eyes fiery. His gaze charges me up, energy flowing through me from the base of my spine and shooting out the top of my head. I’ve never felt anything like it. The power rolls from my toes to burst from my lips. “Alpha.”
Brick seizes my arms, drawing me close. “Mate.”
The whole room shudders.
Brick turns me to face the room. “This is my mate. She is strong and worthy. She stands ready to defeat all challengers.”
The wave of energy rushes over the room. Men in human form straighten, heaving deep sighs. Wolves drop to their haunches. Some are wagging their tails.
The power washes back over me, filling me until it feels like bright light is bursting out of my eyes. For a moment, I see the pack as one, unified whole, a beautiful circle blossoming with power and joy. Love and connection. The vision intensifies until I want to weep.
The light fades. The heat in my head dissipates.
I’m glad Brick is holding me up. Billy and Nickel close on either side of us, Jake and Vance behind. We form a united front, with Brick and I at the center.
“She stands with us. And we stand with her. She is pack.”
I hold very still, focusing on breathing and staying upright.
“And if we can’t accept a human?” someone yells from the middle of the throng.
“Then get out,” Billy snarls. “Don’t let the door hit you on the tail.”
There’s a tense silence, then the older wolf in front of the stage barks a laugh. “I never thought I’d see the day a human would defeat a shifter with nothing but a whistle.” He raises his arms high, and starts a slow golf clap. He’s joined by the younger fighter, and more and more wolves, until applause breaks out all over the room, and the last of the hopeless desperation disappears.