by Rose, Aubrey
He grinned, displaying missing teeth and a lopsided smile, and took another swing at me. It was slow and telegraphed, a clumsy trap. I pushed towards him and he was ready for me, a sweeping kick intended to take my legs from under me. But I knew it was coming, and he might as well been moving in slow motion.
When his leg was fully extended, I lashed out with my own. I struck the ankle that was supporting him with the side of my foot and heard a satisfying crunch as I made contact.
Five seconds in and we both knew I’d already won. I was already faster than he was and his only hope was to overwhelm me with brute force, but with his ankle injured I’d be able to dance rings around him. It was only a matter of time.
The crowd hadn’t seen it, though. They saw me narrowly escape two powerful and confident strikes from a bigger foe. They roared, eager for more. Eager for blood.
I grinned.
“They think this is a fight. This isn’t a fight.”
“Fuck you.” I saw a momentary glimpse of the animal within. My ears picking up the barely audible growl beneath Deek’s words as, just for a second, his eyes flashed gold beneath the harsh spotlights that bathed the ring in an unearthly orange glow.
“At least give them a show, you big ugly fuck.”
I slowed, just enough for the bigger man to get my measure. I could have ended it then and there, but the crowd didn’t come to see a main event that lasted a minute. They wanted to see two gladiators slug it out. They wanted a bloody epic and, like it or not, the survival of my pack was at stake. Happy crowds spent money. Happy crowds gambled. Happy crowds came back and brought their friends with them.
Deek must have thought I’d gotten sloppy as he took a wild swing that connected with the side of my head. Even rolling with the punch, the blow made my ears ring. I brought a hand to my forehead and it came away tacky with blood. Another cut. Another scar for the collection. The things I do for my pack.
The crowd gasped. The crowd cheered. The crowd shrieked. I didn’t care about them, though. I wondered what she was thinking. Was she worried about me or could she tell I was just putting on a show? I was looking forward to having her explore my scars. Tracing them with a finger as her champion lay beside her soft warm— WHAM. A second punch caught me off guard and sent me crashing to the mat.
That hurt. Dammit. What the hell was wrong with me?
I’d win. We’d fuck. And tomorrow she’d be gone and I’d be nothing more than a memory. A benchmark that all her future lovers would fail to live up to. And yeah, she was soft and ripe and I wanted her. But she wasn’t kin and she wasn’t people. She was a dog in denial of her true nature. I guess that had a certain appeal, but it wasn’t anything to get sloppy about.
Deek’s uninjured leg swung at my chest with rib-cracking force, but even though I was distracted, he was far too slow. I pulled my arms up to protect my chest and took the brunt of the impact on my wrists. Fuck. Get it together.
I felt my calm slip. The animal inside me was chomping at the bit, begging me to be released and, just for a second, I gave in. I lashed out with inhuman speed and as I relaxed my grip on humanity, there was a glimpse of something else. Something not quite human and not quite animal. A glimpse of gray fur and claws as I raked my hand across the back of Deek’s leg.
Before anyone knew what had happened, I was back in control again. Fur became skin, claws became nails. The animal was back in its cage.
“... The fuck?”
The look of surprise on Deek’s face made me feel a little better about my carelessness. It was my party trick. Very few people had that level of control over their transformation. Certainly no one Deek had fought before. For most shifters the change was like an unstoppable tsunami.
I wasn’t most shifters.
The crowd, predictably, loved it. They were on their feet howling for more. Although both cuts, my forehead and Deek’s shin, were shallow, they were bleeding and the crowd couldn’t get enough of it.
For a moment I felt something I hadn’t felt in a long time. A flash of shame. I was an alpha. I was physical perfection. The living embodiment of man and beast and here I was performing tricks to earn enough crumbs to feed my pack.
Even though no one could hear it, I felt the growl in the back of my throat.
Fuck them. Fuck all of them. Fuck that girl in the crowd for thinking she was better than us. For choosing to live with them instead. And most of all, fuck Deek for being big and ugly and slow.
I crouched on the mat as I allowed the strength to flood into me. My legs felt as if they were on fire as I launched myself upwards like a missile. We locked eyes for a split second before I lowered my head. I’d pay for this. But a lump on my head would fade. Deek, on the other hand, was about to get a whole lot uglier.
My forehead smashed into his face with sickening force. The cartilage of his nose crumpled like the bonnet of a car and I could feel shard of teeth embedding themselves in my skin. We both fell to the floor in a sweaty pile of limbs.
Deek groaned. Alive, thankfully, but he wasn’t getting up anytime soon.
There was a beat, an almost uncomfortable silence, and then the crowd erupted.
Chapter Seven
Natalie
The fighter we’d just met strutted around the ring as if he owned the place. Now that he had stripped out of his warm-up clothes, I could see just why all the women in the crowd were going crazy for him. He was big, but not bulky. His lean muscled torso hung off impossibly broad shoulders like a work of art.
A dense tattoo started at his midriff and wound its way in a spiral round and round his abdomen, coming to a stop between and below his shoulder blades. He had other, smaller, tattoos up and down both arms, but this one was something else. I couldn’t make out any of the details, but it looked incredibly intricate.
When he turned away from us, I noticed the beginnings of a nasty looking scar. A slash that ran from the small of his back, downwards underneath the waistband of his shorts. I couldn’t resist daydreaming what I might find if I slid those shorts down over his chiseled obliques.
Ugh. What was I thinking? Tattoos and scars and a fighter who was about to try and beat another man senseless in the name of entertainment. In theory, this just wasn’t my kind of man. In theory… but here I was, my heart beating so hard it felt as it were straining at my ribcage.
Then his eyes locked onto mine, and I felt my heart skip a beat. The crowd roared as he pressed two of his fingers to his lips, then pointed in my direction.
“Did he just point at me? Why did he point at me?” I asked.
Tommy shrugged, but he didn’t look happy, “Who knows. He’s just showing off. Watch him get his arrogant ass kicked now.”
“He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to…”
“To what?”
“To lose.”
Tommy grunted.
“Take a look around. He’s already lost. He’s a loser, they all are. They live out here in a slum like animals. For all the smug posturing, he might as well be a circus freak.”
The words hit me like a slap across the face. I tried to process what Tommy was saying.
“You said…”
“What?”
The crowd was getting louder as Hutch and his opponent stepped around each other, sizing each other up.
“You said you brought me here so I could see my own kind. Is that what you think of me? Am I a freak?”
“I can’t…”
Tommy shook his head and tapped his ear; I can’t hear you, avoiding the question entirely.
He obviously had an ulterior motive for bringing me here. Was he trying to teach me a lesson? Was I supposed to be humiliated? He’d been overcompensating all night. Flashing his cash around like it was going out of fashion. Maybe this wasn’t about me, but about him. Was I supposed to fall into his arms because he had money and the freaks we had come to watch fight didn’t?
There was something going on here. Something ugly that I wanted no part of. But what
ever it was, whatever point he was trying to make, it wasn’t working. I felt excited. I felt alive in a way that I hadn’t felt for longer than I could remember, possibly ever.
My heart was pounding and I was surprised to find that I wanted to watch this savage man, this animal, this fighter. Even after our brief run-in, I could sense that he was something more than most men. Certainly more than Tommy.
Why did I want him? What the hell was wrong with me? There were too many questions. Questions I didn’t have any answers for. But the two men in the ring were already circling each other.
The fight went quickly, and I only had to cover my eyes once, at the end. When it was clear his opponent wasn’t getting up, the winner - Hutch, I reminded myself, his name is Hutch - raised his fists. The crowd went insane. I couldn’t help myself either. Caught up in the noise of the crowd, my body moved with the rest of the spectators and my fists pumped with the pulse of the mob.
Despite myself, I hoped that he would look over again at me. Point at me. I didn’t know why I wanted it so much; I just did.
Instead, I watched as another woman climbed up the side of the fighting ring. She had long black hair tied back in a ponytail, a white tank top over her lean body. Every bit of her was tight muscle, and on her face was an expression of glee.
The next fighter? No. She wrapped her arms around Hutch and kissed him with such passion that the crowd’s cries rose again.
Except mine. Jealousy surged through me with such force that I had to look away or risk letting the monster loose. My face was red, my blood pressure so high that I could feel my veins beating against my skin, trying to escape.
“What is it?”
Tommy touched my arm and I jerked away. I couldn’t have him touching me. Not now. Not when I was feeling like this. I grabbed my cardigan and pushed my way away from him, away from the fight, away from Hutch and his girlfriend making out in the center of the ring. I couldn’t handle this.
“Hey! Natalie!”
I heard Tommy behind me, following me, and I just moved faster. The crowd was so loud, the air was so hot. I needed to get out.
“Natalie!”
I shoved my way through a group of large men and made for the door. The security guards stood back to let me out, and I propelled myself out of the doorway and into the night, stumbling to the side of the building.
It was cool out here, and I gulped breaths of air gratefully. Leaning against the wall of the warehouse, I could feel the sheet metal shudder with the roar of the crowd. The metal was nice and cold against my forehead, though, and I closed my eyes to breathe in and out. The monster was locked away. Locked away for good. Breathe in. Breathe out.
“Natalie!”
A hand grabbed my shoulder and I spun, a growl escaping my throat before I knew to stop it. Tommy backed away one step, a frightened look on his face. Guilt surged up into my throat, a bilious that I swallowed back down. I shouldn’t scare Tommy. Never again, not like before.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“What the hell was that?”
“I couldn’t—I couldn’t watch—”
“What? The fight was over.” Tommy’s brows creased, tugging together at the middle.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Then what do you mean? Why did you leave?”
“I...I don’t know.” I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. Behind Tommy, the crowd was beginning to stream out of the warehouse doors. Lights flashed in front of me, the bright stadium lights in the warehouse filtered through the bodies of the crowd. The smell they brought with them was the smell of the fight, and my body twisted inside.
“You seemed fine during the fight,” Tommy said. He caressed my shoulder with one hand, tentatively, as though unsure if I would bite.
“I was, I was. It was just...after.” I blinked hard but the lights didn’t go away.
“Oh? You mean the fighter kissing his bitch. Was that what did it?” An edge of bitterness crept into his voice and his hand clamped down on my shoulder.
“It wasn’t...I couldn’t breathe,” I sputtered. “I didn’t want to be there.”
“Did you want to go home with him? You think that’s how this works?” Tommy leaned forward, his voice hissing. “You think that’s why I brought you here?”
“No!” I cried. His fingers gripped my shoulders, and I cringed under his hold. “Tommy, no! I just—”
“Do you want to fuck him or do you want to fuck me?”
Tommy stared at me, his face inches from mine. My mind went blank. I didn’t want to fuck anyone. I didn’t want anything to do with this. My body still ached with the desire and adrenaline of the crowd, though, and I clenched my teeth together, unsure how to respond.
“This was a mistake,” Tommy said. He let go of my shoulder and stepped back.
“Yes,” I said, getting my voice back. “Yes, it was.”
“I should have known someone like you couldn’t handle all this.”
“Maybe you should have warned me,” I said. Now that he wasn’t so close to me, I wasn’t scared of losing myself and hurting him. The monster had subsided inside me, its roar now a dull hum in my bones. “Maybe you should have told me about this place before taking me here. I had no idea, Tommy.”
“I should have known that you would overreact like this.”
“I’m not overreacting.” Breathe in. Breathe out.
“I should have known you would lose control.”
“I didn’t!” My voice rose, and a few of the spectators looked over at us. I lowered my voice. “I didn’t.”
“Don’t lie to me, Natalie,” Tommy said. I could hear the pure hatred in his voice. I didn’t know what I had done to make him so angry with me, but I hated him at that moment. I hated him for bringing me here, for showing me this, for getting me all worked up and not supporting me through it.
“I’m not lying,” I said through gritted teeth. “If I’d lost control, Tommy, you would know it.”
We stared at each other and I saw realization dawn in his eyes. They widened slightly, then narrowed again.
“Are you threatening me?”
“Tommy—“
“After everything, this is what you do to me? After I take you out for a nice evening, after I find a place where you can see others like you? You have no idea what I’ve done for you. You ungrateful bitch.”
“Get away from me.”
My voice was low, shivering. I didn’t know what was happening inside of me, but I knew that Tommy was making it worse.
“Nat, don’t be an idiot.”
“Get away from me!”
One of the security guards stepped forward.
“Is there a problem here?” he asked.
Tommy looked over at me with slitted eyes, then smoothed the front of his shirt.
“No problem,” he said. “I was just leaving this young woman alone. Like she asked.”
He walked away toward the parking lot. I stood and watched him go. Fine. Let him leave. I could just call a cab.
One problem with that: I hadn’t brought my phone. Oh, well. There was sure to be a place inside where I could make a call. I took a deep breath and headed back into the warehouse, against the stream of the crowd.
The crowd wrapped around me, pushing past to get outside. I could barely see over the heads of the people around me. Ducking to one side, I found a waitress slipping past with a tray full of empty pitchers.
“Excuse me?” I said.
“Whaddya want?”
She looked down at me from under lidded eyes. I could feel the contempt oozing from her words as she looked me over. I saw myself as she saw me: frumpled, my dress stained with sweat, completely out of place.
“I was—is there somewhere I can make a phone call?”
“Anywhere you got a phone,” the waitress said.
“No, I mean, is there a phone I could use?”
“Here?”
“Somewhere in the back, maybe?” My eyes swep
t around the warehouse that was quickly clearing out. Surely there would be an office of some sort.
“Lemme guess, you want to go back to the locker rooms just to make a call.”
“Yes,” I said. “Yes, can I—”
“Listen,” the waitress said. “You townie bitches want to fuck the fighters, you get to them when they’re still in the ring. You ain’t getting back there with them now, not if they didn’t choose you to come.”
“No, I didn’t mean—I didn’t want—”
But the waitress had already turned on her heel and left me standing. I flushed hard. I turned to a couple stumbling toward the exit.
“Excuse me,” I said. “Do you have a cell phone I could use?”
The woman shook her head and looked up at the man.
“I don’t get reception out here,” he said, obviously annoyed at my question. They walked away, and I watched them go.
I asked another woman, who shrugged and ignored me. Nobody would help. All around me, people were pushing to get out of the warehouse. Surely one of them would have to have a phone. But everyone I asked either brushed me off or told me no.
Two guys in jeans and button down shirts walked past; one of them eyed me, his gaze sweeping over my dress. I opened my mouth to ask them, but something in the guy’s look made me hesitate. He pulled his friend over my way.
“Hey, babe,” he said. “You lost?”
“I’m trying to find a phone,” I said nervously. “I need to call a cab.”
“Cab? Ah, you can’t find a cab around here,” the other friend said, waving his hand dismissively in the air.
“You need a ride home?” the first guy said, grinning.
“I—” I was about to say no, but looking out at the quickly thinning crowd, I changed my mind. “Sure. I live over on the west side of town.”
“What a coincidence,” the guy said. “Mikey here lives on the west side.”
“Thank you,” I said, relief washing over me.
I followed them outside and around the side of the warehouse. The lights in the parking lot were dim, and I walked carefully to not stumble over any potholes. Finally we reached the back corner of the lot.