22. Lynx #2
“How?” Jet sneers before I get the chance.
Grey’s expression softens ever so slightly, like it always does when he looks at Jet. I feel I should tell him he’s got no fucking chance there, but he can find out the hard way.
“The fight rings are run by humans,” Grey says, attention swinging back to me. “I’m assuming you’re not going to ask them nicely?”
Jet snorts, but I’m all fucking ears. “Go on.”
“I’m a hunter. I have sway with the council. If you kill anyone, any humans , then I can explain the situation and make sure they don’t punish you for it.”
It all sounds too good to be true, which means it probably is. He might be one of the better hunters out there, but I still don’t fucking trust him. “And why would you do that for us?”
He sighs and runs a hand through his hair before shooting another glance Jet’s way, like he just can’t help himself. Fortunately, Jet’s attention is elsewhere. “As hunters, we did some bad things in the past?—”
“No shit.” Jet’s gaze is fully focused on him now.
Judging by the scents coming off him, Grey’s not sure how to react to that. And Jet’s wicked smirk tells me he knows it too.
“We have a lot to make up for,” Grey says, focusing on me, like I’m the safest option. “I want to catch those running these fight rings as much as you do.”
“I really fucking doubt that.” I think of Beth, of Bale, of Nico , and barely hold back a snarl.
“Yeah, maybe not,” he acquiesces. “But I want to stop them, and this is the best chance of doing that.”
I could put this to a vote. I should put this to a vote, but I have neither the time nor the fucking patience. “Don’t get in the way,” I growl and turn to get on my bike.
“Wait,” he says, and I turn to look at him. “Where are we going?”
Yeah, there’s no way I’m giving him that information upfront. “Someone go with him.” It’s not an order, but I’ll make it one if I have to. We need to go .
Both Jet and Beth get on their bikes and roar off towards the gates. Not a surprise.
Mal and Flint look at each other and shrug.
“I’ll do it.” Flint flashes Grey a wide grin and walks over to him. “But I’m driving.”
I’m surprised when Grey nods and throws him the keys, but I don’t have space in my head to think about that right now. “Let’s go.”
The location Callum’s contact gave us is about an hour away.
I fucking pray that Morgan’s there and still in one piece.
Goddess, help them if he’s not.
The fight rings are always held deep in the middle of a forest or wooded area.
I don’t know why, but I don’t give a shit either, since it works in our favour.
We stash the bikes and Grey’s SUV farther back than I’d like, but we can’t risk being discovered before we’re close enough to strike.
And if the FBs are working with Fox, then we can’t rule out the chance they might be here tonight.
We’re about two miles from our destination and downwind, although there’s barely a breeze tonight. From past experience, the fights don’t tend to kick off before eleven o’clock. They like to give the wankers who come to watch plenty of time to place their bets.
Just the fucking thought of it makes my jaw ache and my fingers twitch.
I close my eyes and take a breath.
A hand grips my shoulder.
Beth .
“We’ll get him back,” she whispers.
“If he’s there.” I almost don’t want to move from this spot. At the minute I have hope. If we get there and find no trace of him... I have no fucking clue what I’ll do.
“What’s the plan?” Jet rolls his shoulders, tension in every line of his body. He wants to shift as much as I do. As all of us do.
Well, except Grey.
“I can keep up,” Grey says, glancing round at the five of us. “If you want to shift.”
Jet snarls. He gives Grey a thorough once-over, checking for hunter weapons.
I can’t smell aconite on him, but that doesn’t mean he’s not armed with silver. I’d be surprised if he wasn’t.
“Open your jacket,” Jet orders, and once again, Grey surprises me by complying. He’s wearing a shoulder holster. “What bullets are in that?”
“I don’t have anything silver on me.” He holds his arms out wide, inviting Jet to check for himself. “Call it a show of good faith.”
“More like a fucking death wish.” Jet tilts his head, studying him. “You’re alone with five shifters and you have no way to protect yourself.” He sneers. “You’re insane.”
Grey shrugs. “I trust you.”
I breathe in as subtly as possible. There’s a trace of fear, but I’m pretty sure he’s telling the truth. Don’t know if that makes him brave or insane like Jet said.
Either way, Jet dismisses him and turns to me, eyebrows raised.
“We shift. Same plan as before.” With the thick cloud cover blocking the moon, we can risk Beth joining us this time. I trust them all to be as silent as their animal forms allow. Grey will be the liability. “Can you be quiet?”
He scowls like I’ve offended him. “It’s not my first time doing this.” As soon as the words leave his mouth, he winces. The implication isn’t lost on anyone. “I’ll be quiet,” he says softly, not meeting my eyes.
Whatever. I don’t have time for his guilt. “Shift.”
Quickly and quietly, we strip and shove our clothes into the two rucksacks Beth brought with her. Grey might be used to stalking prey, but he’s definitely not used to a bunch of naked shifters because he’s studying the forest floor like it holds the answer to everything.
Closing my eyes, I block him out, block everything out but that inner power begging me to set it free. I welcome the pain with open arms, need it to clear my mind of everything but what we’re here to do.
I hear a gasp and look up to see Grey watching Jet saunter towards him, sleek and black and terrifying if you’re human. Jet bares his teeth as he advances, coming to a stop a few feet away. I really fucking hope Grey doesn’t do something stupid like try and stroke him, or he’ll lose a hand.
I don’t care either way, but explaining that to the rest of the Silver Blades isn’t something I want to do. A low growl gets Jet’s attention, and with Beth and Flint carrying the rucksacks in their teeth, we set off into the woods.
MORGAN
I’m dozing against Luke’s shoulder when I hear them.
His hand reaches for mine in silent support, and the faint trace of his fear hits me. I know it’s fear because he’s spent the last few hours teaching me how to decipher basic scents. It tastes wrong on the air, my wolf reacting to it, and fuck me, that’s a thought I never imagined having.
Jesus Christ.
I still can’t believe this happened. Even with the evidence literally hitting me in the face, it’s a struggle to accept that I’ve fundamentally changed inside.
I haven’t shifted though.
Can’t even if I wanted to with the cuffs still on.
Luke tried to coach me through it, to teach me what to do as soon as I get the chance, but the idea of it terrifies me to the point I almost had another panic attack.
“When they come for us, they’ll take the cuffs off and fit you with a shock collar to keep control,” he whispers quickly. “When you get in the ring, they might force you to shift or half shift to make things more exciting ,” he bites out. “They’ll keep shocking you until your instinct takes over.”
I shake my head. “I can’t .”
“You won’t have a choice. Your wolf will take over and magic will do the rest.”
Magic .
What the actual fuck.
He squeezes my hand as the voices get louder, nearer. “The more you fight it, the more it’ll hurt. You’ll feel a pull in your chest.” He brings his hands up and taps over the middle of his chest. “Give into it and let your body do what it’s meant to.”
“You make it sound so easy.”
“It is. If you trust your gut and let it happen. It’ll only hurt for a second if you don’t fight it.”
Three men come into view and Luke lets go of my hand. I miss it immediately.
One of them aims a gun at me. “Silver bullets.” He taps the barrel. “Stay in the fucking corner.” He beckons to Luke. “You’re coming with us. Looks like you’re the opening act.” He grins and my heart drops to my stomach.
I have to physically stop myself from reaching for Luke when he moves towards the cage door. What if he doesn’t come back? What if he dies out there?
My heart bangs so hard against my ribs I’m surprised I can’t see it moving.
Luke glances back at me over his shoulder. “Remember what I said,” he murmurs so quietly I have to strain to hear. “It’ll be okay, Morgan.”
“Stop fucking whispering,” the guy with the gun snaps, and Luke faces them again as the other guy unlocks the cage door while the third trains his gun on him.
They immediately fasten a collar around his neck and drag him out.
I listen to them walk away, the guards barking orders at him.
For the last few hours there’s been a background hum of voices. I know people have been arriving at wherever we are, but I’ve pushed the reason to the back of my mind. Two minutes later a massive cheer goes up.
I feel sick.
When a feral roar cuts through the night, I can’t tell whether it’s Luke or not, and I shrink back against the bars.
He’s fighting right now.
Possibly for his life for all I know.
And that’s going to be me soon.
I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared as I am right now.
There’s no moon tonight, but my eyesight is better than I’m used to it being at night. I stare out into the darkness, willing Lynx to melt out of the trees and save me.
Nothing happens.
Nobody comes.
I’m forced to sit there and listen to the cheers of a crowd baying for blood and the roars of rage and pain as those fighting give it to them.
It seems both hours and only minutes until a mixture of cheers and boos fill the air and then fade away to nothing. I realise with a jolt that the fight’s over.
I wait for Luke to come back.
I wait.
And wait.
But when I hear the voices of the guards returning, I strain to hear Luke, to smell the scent I know I’ll recognise anywhere now, but enough of his scent lingers around me and I’m not skilled enough to tell old from new.
When they eventually come into view, the three guards are on their own.
“Where is he?” I growl, lurching towards the bars without thinking.
“Get the fuck back, unless you want me to end you now.” There’s suddenly a gun thrust in my face and I rear back instinctively.
“Where is he?” I repeat, managing to get the words out without snarling, but it’s taking every bit of control I can muster not to roar in their faces.
The one with the gun smirks. “Dead.”
No.
He can’t be.
The others laugh, and I barely register the door being opened and someone fastening a collar around my neck.
Dead.
Killed for some arseholes’ entertainment.
Rage bubbles up inside me, hot and fierce, like nothing I’ve ever felt before. There’s a tug behind my ribs, a warmth in the pit of my stomach, and I know it’s the urge to shift.
I want to.
I want it so badly, my body trembles with the need to give in, but I can’t . It’s like an invisible barrier stopping me, holding me back, and it hurts .
The cuffs , a voice whispers in the back of my mind, and I whimper because it sounds an awful lot like Luke.
“We’ll take the cuffs off when you get in the ring,” guard one says, like he can tell what I’m thinking. “If you try and shift before we tell you to, you’ll get this.” He presses something in his hand and fire races through my veins for one, two, three agonising seconds as my body goes rigid.
It stops so suddenly, I fall forwards.
They fucking laugh as they haul me upright.
I never thought I’d want to kill another human being.
But I want to now.
I want to rip all of them to shreds with my bare fucking hands.
Should I be frightened by how easily that thought comes to me, how natural it feels? Maybe. But I’m not.
They drag me past vans parked haphazardly at the back of what I can now tell is a large clearing. I glance over my shoulder, noting the dirt road heading in the opposite direction and the escape it offers.
Not for me though.
Hope of a rescue dies with each step I take towards the growing noise ahead. I hold my head high, though, refusing to let them see how fucking scared I am. I reach for that rage again, cling to it with everything I have as the noise builds and builds.
We clear the last few vehicles and I see what has to be the ring itself.
See the people surrounding it.
And the person waiting for me inside it.
No.
I falter, almost stumbling over my own feet as he spots me and grins.
I am so fucked.