Angus

by Sydney Addae

  “I’m guessing between the eyes, that’ll slow them down long enough for me to rip off their heads. Oh, and try not to get close to them, some have fingertips dipped in poison.”

  “They aren’t supposed to kill us, just take us in,” she said.

  “Still, don’t get close to them. Pick them off from a distance.” Angus stood and jumped, shifting into his hybrid. He landed behind a modified full-blood, reached out, grabbed his head and twisted like he was opening a jar. The head snapped off, blood squirted everywhere. Angus kicked the body forward into an oncoming fighter and threw the head into the face of another one, knocking them both back a few feet.

  He jumped in the air and kicked his oncoming opponent beneath the chin, snapping his head back and breaking his neck. Quick as a rabbit, he jumped on the downed man and finished twisting off his head. He tossed it into the face of the full-blood running toward him. The force of the hit knocked his opponent onto a large boulder. His head split but it didn’t kill him.

  A roar from the last standing full-blood grabbed his attention. Angus waited until the last moment, jumped aside and slammed his fist into his opponent’s gut, robbing him of breath. While winded, Angus snapped his neck, pulled off his head, and tossed it aside. He strode to the final full-blood, who lay on the rock as his head healed. Angus grabbed the head with both hands and twisted until it separated.

  “Come down, we need to go before they send reinforcements.” He pulled off his bloodied shirt and wiped his face.

  “While you were fighting, two humans climbed the ledge behind me, I didn’t want to distract you. One sec.” The sound of gunfire split the air. The next moment Shyla landed beside him. “Ready?”

  Angus took off down the side of the mountain, Shyla fast behind him. They needed to hide in the forest where he had spent so much of his time when he was younger. In the woods he’d find food, water, and shelter for his mate. They just needed to make it there. He glanced over his shoulder, Shyla was with him. Just a few more feet and they’d be safe, at least for the moment.

  She fell.

  His heart stuttered as he looked behind him and saw her lying on the ground. Shifting to his hybrid, he turned, picked her up and continued running. The first prick in his shoulder was more a nuisance than anything. Three pricks slowed him down. Five caused him to stumble and drop his precious mate. He sat next to her, pulled out several darts, and shifted into his beast. Unrelenting pain, mixed with anger and shame at failing her rose up his throat. He threw back his head and released a long howl. In the distance, he heard an answer and then his world went dark.

  CHAPTER 17

  Angus jerked awake and sat up. “Shyla!” He searched for her through their mental link. She didn’t respond, but she was alive. Relief flowed over him like a waterfall. Looking around he noticed a shower head and toilet in the corner of the room.

  “Nice.” He needed to make use of both. Toilet first. Dried blood flaked off his stomach as he walked naked across the floor. Finished relieving himself, he tested the water for the shower and stepped beneath the spray. At least three people were on the other side of the door. He frowned. One modified full-blood, two humans. Maybe now he’d get some answers.

  He grabbed a towel from a nearby shelf, dried off and slipped on a navy and orange jogging suit with strange symbols he didn’t recognize. In a cubby beneath the towels were several pairs of large slippers. He grabbed a pair.

  While he slid into them, the door opened. A tall figure in a navy-blue monk’s robe strode inside.

  “Good, you are awake and dressed. Come with me.” He turned and walked out the door.

  Eager to get some answers and put this whole ordeal behind him, Angus followed. Outside, the full-blood remained near the door and the human took up the rear, his hand on something in his pocket. Angus suspected it was another dart gun. They walked down a long corridor in what appeared to be an old castle. Whitewashed walls with long, spidery cracks showed signs of disrepair. The floor was impacted dirt. No pictures graced the walls. Stingy wall sconces provided just enough light to see a few feet in front of them but no more. When they turned the corner, they faced two, ten-foot feet high or more, gold-trimmed doors. Cobwebs and rat droppings made him wonder if anyone had used this place in a long time. It smelled old and rank.

  They stopped.

  The doors opened slowly. Everything outside this room bespoke a different day and time. But someone had spent considerable time and money to make this opulent room a shrine of epic proportions. It sparkled. From the highly polished marble floors to the huge crystal chandeliers in the ceiling with a least a hundred burning candles. A large, circular raised dais sat in the middle of the floor, reminding him of a gilded boxing ring. Short gold posts with a similar gold chain marked the edge of the circle.

  When the robed guy moved inside, Angus followed. The human security person didn’t enter.

  “Sit here.” He pointed to a large cushion on the floor far from the ring. Intrigued, Angus sat and waited to see what unfolded. It didn’t take long. Four more robed figures joined the first in the room as the door closed behind them. They formed a semi-circle around a raised dais and held hands.

  Across the room, another cloaked figure entered, his robe slightly different from the others. Instead of kneeling alongside the other monks, he stepped in front of them, held up his hand, and pulled a rolled paper from his other pocket.

  “Today is a great day. One we have waited a century to see.” Unrolling the scroll, he intoned words Angus didn’t understand. He looked across the room and blinked. How had he missed the large statue depicting a tall, muscular male with long curly hair, wide nose, high cheekbones, and a large, long phallus, standing with his hands at the side, looking into the sky.

  What the hell? Angus continued staring at the large marbled masterpiece, obviously missing his cue to stand until two full-bloods grabbed him beneath his arms, hoisting him upward.

  “Answer the question,” the man who’d been reading the scroll said in a low tenorous tone.

  “I didn’t hear it.” Angus jerked from the two full-bloods, turned and showed his incisors, warning them away. While his back was turned, one of the robed monks kicked him in his back, sending him flying into the full-blood, who grabbed him in a bear hug.

  “Perhaps now you will pay attention,” the robed monk said.

  Angus released his claws, dug deep into the side of the full-blood and shifted into his hybrid. He pulled back and punched the full-blood in the jaw, sending him flying across the room. Angus jumped, hit his head on the ceiling, and fell on top of the on-coming full-blood, knocking him to the ground. After clearing his head, he grabbed hold of the full-blood’s head, twisted until he heard the break, and jumped up. Turning, he headed for the monk who’d kicked him in the back.

  “Stop!”

  Following the scent of the asshole who’d kicked him from behind, Angus grabbed him from the line and lifted him high.

  “Stop or your mate dies,” the man on the dais yelled.

  “We’re going to die anyway, might as well take all of you with us,” Angus said, shaking the man a few times before tossing him across the room. Blood smeared the white wall as the man’s head cracked open before he slid down and remained still. Angus picked up another monk and activated the bracelet.

  “Stop this madness. You and your mate don’t need to die, just be our champion, fight in the games,” a monk said with urgency as he moved toward Angus.

  “Who are you?” Angus asked, even though he’d just taken the name from the person he held.

  “Scorpio. I’m the high priest. Release the boy, he’s too young to die.”

  Angus realized the truth of Scorpio’s words. The boy was a relative of the monk’s and had no idea what was going on. The teen’s love of sports and fighting events reminded Angus of Adam. He released him and turned to the monks. “Bring my mate here. If she is hurt I will make it my life’s mission to kill each of you and your families.” He inhaled
deeply to bring his beast under control. If they didn’t move quickly, he would destroy them all and deal with the consequences later.

  Scorpio raised his hand.

  An old stone altar rose up from the floor near the statue. Shyla lay on top, dressed in a long, white gown. A crown of white flowers was around her head. Moving quickly, he ran to her, morphing to human as he did.

  His fingertips grazed her cheeks and ran over her lips. Checking for marks and bruises, he released a pent-up breath when he found none. His last memory was of her firing pistols and running behind him. Asleep, she looked so peaceful and beautiful. Although he didn’t know her that well, he could imagine her response to this outfit her captors had dressed her in. It wouldn’t be good. Cupping her cheeks between his hands, he activated the bracelet.

  “Angus?” she asked in a whispery thin voice as he sent energy to her through the bracelet.

  Leaning forward, he placed his forehead to hers. “Yes. They’ve drugged you with something, I cannot reach you through our mind link.” He stopped short of revealing their connection through the chameleon bracelet. “Fight this and open your eyes. I need to know you’re okay.”

  He brushed his lips across hers as he prayed to the Goddess to save his mate.

  “If you wish her to wake, and fill your den with pups, you’ll fight in the arena as our champion,” Scorpio said.

  “What have you done to her?” Angus kissed Shyla and sent more energy to help her wake. Her cheeks were lukewarm, something unusual for their hot-blooded people. Using his thumb, he pushed back her eyelids, the pupils looked good. He pinched her nostrils together. A few seconds later, she gasped for air but didn’t open her eyes.

  “She is asleep.” One of the monks said behind him. “Nothing will happen to your mate. She will sleep until the challenge has been met.” The words held the scent of truth.

  “Win or lose, she wakes?” Angus asked, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest.

  “Yes, but if you lose, can she remain awake? Won’t death immediately follow?” the monk asked in a smug tone.

  Angus continued staring at his beloved mate. They were a good match. He touched her hand, stroked the back of it for a few seconds. “I don’t know,” Angus lied. Since he never bit Shyla, their bonding was never completed. If he died, she would continue to live, but her quality of life would be that of a grieving woman, constantly wanting her mate. Some claimed living half-bonded was like being half alive with a fractured heart.

  His beast growled his displeasure at the dark options for their mate. He could not do that to her. “What kind of games?” he asked without looking at them.

  “The games have started, but our master has a separate challenge and needs a champion. He required the strongest, most competent fighter in this hemisphere. That led us to you.”

  Angus snorted. “Quit the bullshit, I don’t live here anymore, haven’t for years. Just tell me the rules and rewards of this thing.”

  “Reward? Your mate is released and the two of you leave here. Rules? You fight to the death and win the challenge for our master. That’s it,” Scorpio said.

  Angus pulled back, crossed his arms, and met Scorpio’s obsidian gaze. “No. If I fight, I get paid. Half now and half later. Otherwise, fuck off.”

  “Seems I was misinformed about you, what is your price?” Scorpio snapped, stepping down from the dais.

  Angus crossed his arms. “Three million, my mate watches the battle, and no matter what, I will never fight my Alpha.”

  “We don’t know the challenger, so I assume it’s not your Alpha. Understand this, the only person who can wake your mate is our master, and he will only do that if he’s pleased with your performance. If those rules seem fair, give me your banking information and I’ll have the money deposited.” Scorpio whipped out a pad and looked prepared to take dictation.

  Angus rattled the number for his offshore account, no doubt surprising the man. “Show me a receipt when it’s done.”

  Scorpio strode forward, thrust the tablet in front of Angus and waited. “Here is the transaction receipt.” Angus looked at it but didn’t really care one way or the other. He had returned to Shyla’s side and continued feeding her energy. The payment thing was just a stall. He wasn’t sure about the master being the only one who could release his mate, Silas should be able to do it. Or the Goddess. He refused to place his mate’s future in the hands of these assholes.

  “Now do we have your agreement to fight for our master, to be his champion?” Scorpio asked.

  Angus thought of Grandfather’s warnings, Shyla’s kidnapping, and being on the run. The idea that these humans were able to capture and put him in this position lit a fuse. The only reason he hadn’t broken their necks was because Shyla couldn’t break free on her own yet.

  “Yes, I will fight as your champion, but my mate is to be set free no matter what, and I will never fight my Alpha, agreed?” He pointed at her.

  The monks looked at each other. “Yes, that is fair,” Scorpio said. The monks returned to stand in front of the dais. With upraised hands, they looked upward singing. “Mighty Nicromja, we ask that we serve you today as we have in the past.”

  Nicromja? Shock raced through Angus’ body at the mention of that name. Barticus and Hawke had told him and Silas about the god’s attempt to coerce them into serving him. Barticus’ physiology had been modified so that his seed would produce a superior being as the child of Nicromja. No one had counted on the Liege retrofitting Asia with metal arms and legs, which in Nicromja’s mind made her unworthy. From everything he’d heard, this god was egotistical and lazy. Not a good combination for any species.

  He looked at the statue again with new eyes. Did Nicromja pose for this? Was he vain as well?

  The singing continued into another chorus of worship. A few moments later the singing stopped. Angus looked for the teen he’d grabbed and was relieved to discover the child had left.

  Scorpio unrolled the scroll and read. “God Nicromja, according to the ancient texts the time has come for you to regain your property as foretold. Today marks another thousand-year rule of the Goddess over the male wolves. Today, your servants sit as witnesses to the challenge to the Goddess to regain your right. Today, you return to the earth to rule the male wolves and rid the earth of our enemies.”

  Challenge the Goddess? Not only was Nicromja egotistical, he was a fool as well.

  The air cooled.

  Above the statue, a floating, hazy outline of a large man hovered. The foundation beneath Angus shook. Every candle in the room was extinguished, leaving the floating image as the only source of light.

  No other sound was heard as the image continued forming into a large gray wolf. Angus felt a tugging on his beast and realized the god had tried to force his change. Not happening. After a few moments, the god changed from a wolf to a man with long brown hair, tall and muscular, with eyes blazing like the sun lighting the room completely.

  “You have provided a champion to fight in the challenge?” Nicromja asked as he strode across the room and stood in front of the robed men.

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “Has he agreed?”

  There was a moment of silence. “Yes, he is a bonded male and will fight to save his mate’s life.”

  Nicromja laughed. The booming sound bounced off the walls and hurt Angus’ ears. “Bonded? Where is the mate?”

  The monk pointed behind Angus “Right there, my Lord.”

  Angus tried to block Nicromja’s gaze but couldn’t.

  “She is wolf. Good. I will make my challenge.” Nicromja disappeared.

  CHAPTER 18

  Fire raced through Jasmine’s body as she strode into the conference room. Asia stood, pulling Hawke up with her. Cain, Abel, and Jacques were flung from their chairs against the wall as Jasmine paced in a tight circle. “I’m fed up with her. She does this shit all the time, for any damn reason,” she told Asia.

  “Mistress, what happened?” Asia asked, leani
ng against the wall next to Hawke as Jasmine’s energy whipped around the room.

  “She took Silas,” Jasmine yelled and looked around. “Sorry, guys.” She waved her hand releasing the men.

  “Who took Silas?” Jacques asked, sounding as if he’d just run a marathon. “He’s not answering me.”

  Jasmine opened and closed her fist and stretched her arms. When she’d jumped on the Goddess, or rather through the Goddess’ energy field, she’d burned her knuckles and her arm. They were both healed.

  “Goddess. She said some bullshit story about her needing him to be her champion.”

  “La Patron is her champion,” Abel said.

  Jasmine whirled on him. “He’s my mate, damn it. That trumps everything else and she knows it. At least she does now. I told her this was the last damn time I would allow it.”

  Jacques gasped.

  The men stared at her.

  “You are right, Mistress. How can I help?” Asia asked. She placed her palm on Jasmine’s shoulder. Jasmine covered Asia’s hand with her own.

  “He’s blind. No outside communication. The Goddess couldn’t explain everything except this could be really bad, it could break him. As his mate, no one could stop me from interfering, so I told her to expect me to put a damn stop to this BS once and for all. She wished me well, forgave me for attacking her, and disappeared.”

  “You attacked the Goddess?” Hawke whispered.

  Jasmine waved him down and put her hands on her hips. “How can I help Silas?” she asked Asia. “Even though she didn’t come out and say it, I think as his mate I can help. We need to find out how and we don’t have a lot of time. She gave me a 12-hour window.”

  Asia nodded, then went and sat at the keyboard. Hawke sat next to her, working together.

  Jasmine paced the small room. She refused to believe she’d lose her man. Not today, not for any reason. If he was in hell, she’d make a day trip and bring him home.

  “Find out why the Goddess needs a champion, Jacques. Has he done this before?” she looked at him.