by Kim Schubert
Mal nodded slowly, cautiously stepping away from me before turning her back and heading back upstairs. I didn’t think anyone was forcing Blake. I think he finally realized he was too good for me, and he was. There wasn’t anything else to say on the score.
Finally off the stairs, we turned a corner and ran straight into Tate and Angelina.
“Olivia, I am not having this discussion with you,” Tate sourly dismissed me, massaging his temples.
“Yes, you are.” Please let him refuse me. Please let me have a reason to hurt him, anything.
“She isn’t here about Blake,” Mal enlightened him. “The manor has been attacked by rogue vampires as well.”
“Dammit,” Tate cursed. “This really isn’t a good time for this.”
“I don’t give a fuck if this isn’t an opportune time for you, Tate. I want information on why vampires are attacking my home,” I challenged him, wishing I had my weapons on me.
“That isn’t my fault,” he snarled back.
I searched his eyes. “Liar.”
He lunged at me and I smiled, glad to have rattled him. Unfortunately, Mal grabbed his hand at the last second and pulled him back, rendering both of them off balance. Seething, he regarded me for a long moment before muttering, “I will take care of it.”
“See that you do,” I said to his back.
…
While the Manor had a beautiful gym, not to mention the dance rooms used by the Kitten dancers, I just wasn’t in the mood. Instead, I stormed out of the Centennial House and pulled into Sonny’s Boxing Gym, a local joint owned by a shifter I had met during my arbitrating with Logan.
I needed to work off some steam on a punching bag or a shifter. I wasn’t particular.
As I entered the musty gym, the high ceiling fans working overtime to spread the cool air around, heads turned. I surveyed the place with my bag slung over my shoulder. I wasn’t working out in my leathers.
Alec, a powerful wolf shifter and Logan’s right hand man, jogged over, sweat dripping from his auburn locks, “You need me?”
We had developed a friendship based on beating the shit out people.
“Only if you want your ass beat,” I advised, smiling. “I need to work out some tension.”
Alec smiled good-naturedly. “Let me show you to the locker rooms.”
“Thanks,” I answered, trying to ignore the stares.
“Don’t see many females in here,” he offered, holding open the women’s locker room door for me.
“That was apparent.”
“I’m at the bags when you are ready.”
I took my time, splashing cold water on my face and re-wrapping my raw forearm. I frowned at the wound that my natural healing would knit together faster if I rested and took better care of myself. I didn’t. The pain was a sensation I enjoyed.
Dressed in a sports bra and yoga pants, I went out in search of wraps and gloves.
Sonny found his way over to me, puffing on a cigar and holding out pink wraps and gloves while arguing with someone on the phone. I took the offering, smiling my thanks, and headed toward the bags and Alec.
He stopped his assault on the bag, reaching a hand out to steady its sway. “Fuck, Olivia, what happened to you?” he asked, taking a once-over of my body.
I shrugged. “Work.”
“Then work is beating the shit out of you.” His eyes roved over my wrapped forearm and bruised ribs.
“I can put a shirt on if some combat wounds bother you,” I snipped.
Alec held his hands out for the wraps, his face carefully neutral. “You do need to work out some tension. What’s up?” He started wrapping the pink material on my left hand.
“Vamps are attacking the manor,” I confessed.
“Local?”
“Don’t appear to be,” I answered, as he moved to the other hand.
“What are you going to do?” he asked, taking a surreptitious glance at my clenched jaw.
“Find the nest and deliver their heads on spikes.”
To Alec’s credit, he didn’t pause at my gruesome description or correct me that vampire heads couldn’t be put on spikes, since they turned to dust.
Smart man.
“You know what you are doing?” he asked.
I rolled my eyes and attacked the bag with all the anger and frustration that Blake’s wedding announcement had instilled in me, not to mention the fight with Grams or the fucking vampires attacking what I cherished most.
Sweat dripped into my eyes and my raw forearm burned with exhaustion from attacking the bag with more energy than I had anticipated.
When my arms shook from exertion I stopped, leaning my forehead against the bag, feeling the stitching, sucking down sweet air. “Thanks, Alec,” I said to his wide eyes. “I needed that.”
“I guess,” he said, releasing the bag to crack his knuckles. “Tyler is looking for a partner in the ring if you are up to it. He’s a mean son of a bitch, though.”
I smiled as I headed to the drinking fountain. “Sounds like fun.”
Cheers went up from the ring—thanks to shifter hearing, nothing was private. I splashed cool water on my face and turned to walk over to the giant of a man. I ignored the stares of those who had stopped their workouts to watch. He was larger than Alec; where Alec had trained for lean muscle that made him deadly quick, Tyler had stocky muscle upon muscle. Idly, I wondered what animal he shifted into.
I couldn’t help my smile. This was going to be fun. I was still fucking irritated.
Sonny came up from behind me, halting my progress toward Tyler. He outfitted me with headgear and a mouthpiece, the cigar still dangling from his lips. I watched Tyler bounce energetically from foot to foot, loudly boasting.
“You sure you can handle all this, little girl?” he taunted.
I smiled and nodded, speech hindered by the mouthpiece. I was certain my eyes conveyed my excitement.
After securing the chinstrap a little too tightly, Sonny held me at arm’s length. “Do not kill him,” he warned, his dark eyes serious.
I nodded, patting him on the shoulder with a gloved hand.
“My ulcers can’t take this,” he grunted, moving out of my way.
I slipped into the ring gracefully, keeping my attention on Tyler the entire time.
He hadn’t opted for headgear or a mouthpiece. I shrugged. Dental work was expensive and took time I didn’t have.
As we touched gloves in the center of the ring, I watched his posture, knowing by the bunching of his thigh muscles that he would charge me as soon as the bell rang.
The metal bell announced our fight with a shrill peal. I felt the others watching us, gathered around the ring, but my gaze was only for Tyler. Here’s hoping he could handle me.
Just as predicted, he came out of his corner with his center of mass lowered as he tried to bowl me over. I dodged easily enough, resting my weight on the balls of my feet.
He turned, letting his right hand swing with a force I couldn’t help but admire. I definitely could not let those shots connect with my face. I would go down hard and not come back up, protective headgear or not. Ducking under his attempts, I twisted around him, changing our positions.
I should have clarified beforehand whether this was strictly a boxing match, or if I was allowed to add wrestling in as well.
Oh well, I would just play off of what Tyler did. Currently he was trash talking me, but I wasn’t listening to him or the cheers from the spectators crowded around us.
My focus narrowed to his arms and his pretty thick-skulled head, which he didn’t cover up nearly well enough.
I didn’t wait for him to finish the sentence about him being the recipient of a kiss when he was finished kicking my ass. I rushed him, closing the distance with quick strides before I landed two hooks to each side of his head.
Dazed, he stumbled back as I followed up with three swift uppercuts to his stomach. He doubled over, looking up at me with the change present in his eyes.
/> “Go ahead, bitch,” I taunted. Bringing a little shifter action into the ring would make this more of a challenge.
His upper body rippled and grew. Shouts of foul reached my ears for his partially shifting, but I didn’t care. He charged me like a buffalo, aiming his shoulder toward my midsection again. I wasn’t as fast in dodging him this time. I went down to all fours and he tripped over me, landing in the ropes awkwardly.
Smiling around the mouth guard, I pushed up from the stiff mat, waving him to try again.
He was faster than I expected, his charge landing against my midsection, pushing me back into the ropes.
I gasped for breath and found any effort futile; I was equally unable to push or punch him. Instead, I drew my feet up and slammed my heels against his sternum, giving myself enough room to crash to the mat and roll away. Springing up behind him, I sucked in air as he turned, throwing jabs at my face again.
I ducked quickly, shuffling back, looking for an opportunity. It came in the form of his unbalance as he put everything he had into his last jab that connected with my shoulder. I moved in closer and took him down to the mat with a kick to the knee.
Straddling him, I blasted his face with punch after punch, hearing the satisfying crunch of his breaking nose, several times. His quick healing was annoying me.
It was a satisfying beat-down to deliver, but it wasn’t enough to knock him out. He launched me away from him, his hands on my shoulders as he used his momentum to shove me. I flew out of the ring, tucking and rolling against the hard concrete, feeling my shoulder take the brunt of the impact painfully.
A small whimper escaped my lips. I lay exactly how I had fallen, holding my stomach and braiding down the pain, a trick I’d long coveted and now was teaching to other succubi like me. When our emotions are too raw, too powerful, it helps to imagine the sensations as corded rope. From there the concept of braiding is easy, the mental exercise keeping us from inadvertently influencing entire rooms.
Slowly, I sat up, pain throbbing in time with my heart. Tyler reached me first, panic in his eyes.
“Shit, I am so sorry,” he said, taking off my headgear with rough movements. I spat my mouthpiece out, grinding my jaw together.
“Dammit to hell!” Sonny yelled. “My insurance can’t handle this!” He rushed up, first aid kit in tow.
“Relax, I don’t think it’s broken,” I hissed.
“Olivia!” I heard my name being screamed out of more than one mouth.
“What?” I groaned out, peering up through squinted eyes at Kass, Darren and Logan. How did they know where to find me?
Logan reached me first. He removed his coat mid-stride, draping it over a bench press before he squatted behind me. He rested his hands lightly on my waist, heat from the touch seeping throughout my exposed torso.
“Alec, check it,” he commanded.
“Don’t hit me,” Alec instructed me, settling to his knees on the concrete in front of me.
“No promises,” I groaned out. He pressed his warm hands into the tender flesh of my abused shoulder.
Over his shoulder I saw Tyler, eyes wide, sweating profusely, worry etched in the lines of his forehead.
My back arched, my body wanting away from the pain he was inflicting. A scream firmly trapped between my lips, I couldn’t stop my head lolling back onto Logan’s shoulder.
“Almost done, Olie,” Alec comforted, pulling on my wrist quickly while applying pressure to my dislocated shoulder.
I sucked in air, ready to launch at him, but thankfully Logan’s hands tightened on my hips, pinning me in place. I exhaled in a pained whoosh.
“You need to ice that.” Alec stood, easing my weight up as well, careful to steady me.
“Alpha, I am so sorry. We were just screwing around,” Tyler rapidly explained. He was clearly not sure whom to be more afraid of, me or Logan.
“It’s fine, Tyler,” I groaned.
Kass elbowed her way to the front, “Why are you here, Olie?” Her sharp gaze didn’t miss my underweight form. The hurt from my ignoring her was evident.
I sighed, seeing no use in dragging the announcement out. “Blake is getting married.”
“Oh.” She looked as shocked and confused as I felt.
“I thought you guys were an item?” Alec asked, handing me a towel.
I shook my head, “Nope.”
“Oh,” Alec said, copying Kass as he looked me over again, or rather, checked me out this time.
“Don’t get any ideas,” I growled. “I am still unstable.”
Alec smiled and gave an almost bashful shrug. Logan growled behind me.
I figured I might as well shift my annoyance to someone who deserved it. “What are you doing here, Logan?”
“You get cleaned up, let’s grab lunch.” He obviously ignored my question, also noticing my recent weight loss.
I shrugged, heading towards the locker room. Kass was right behind me. She was upset, to put it mildly.
I waited until I was in the shower and couldn’t see her to ask, “What’s wrong?”
“He’s getting married? Already?” she screeched, giving my thoughts a voice, having finally processed the information.
“Yep.” I didn’t want to dwell on it.
“Do you think he was seeing her the whole time?” she asked. Her annoyance had shifted from my avoidance to him, thankfully.
“I hope not.” I hadn’t dreamed of that possibility.
“Shit Olie, he is such an asshole!” She stomped her foot for emphasis.
“It doesn’t matter what he does now, Kass. We are done and over,” I told her, or was I telling myself? I wasn’t telling her Mal thought it was forced. That would give her hope, and that was the last thing I needed. Hope was dangerous.
“I guess.”
“How are you feeling?” I needed a topic change.
She groaned, “Like shit.”
I couldn’t help but laugh.
“I missed you, Olie.” Her voice was earnest and I paused in the shower.
“I know, Kass, I just—I just had to get away for a while.”
“I know,” she answered sadly.
I came out of the shower dressed in a tank top and a clean pair of jeans. I hated that I was the reason for the tears in her eyes.
“Shut up. It’s the hormones,” she claimed.
“Okay.” I pulled her in for a hug, ignoring the real reason.
…
Logan had an ice pack waiting when we exited the locker room.
“I’ll see you both at the restaurant,” Kass stated, taking Darren’s hand and heading outside.
Logan strapped the pack to my shoulder over my tank top with a practiced ease. His hands lingered longer than they should have, his warm touch stirring a lonely misery I wanted nothing to do with. He guided my arm to rest against my waist and his gaze fell on my injured wrist. Shaking his head, he said, “You love trouble.”
I shrugged. “I ducked when I should have shot.”
He finished wrapping the gauze around my forearm, smoothing the edges of the bandage. Looking down at me with a mixture of irritation and interest, he pulled my bag over his shoulder.
“Let me drive,” he asked, or maybe commanded. Either way I liked being driven around so I handed over the keys.
“You know where we are going?” I questioned, waving to Kass as we exited into the midday sun.
“Yep,” he answered.
I yawned, “Lead on, I’m starved.”
…
Someone had clearly relayed my passion for pizza. As we spread out around a circular table in a pizzeria that smelled divine, I inhaled deeply, moaning.
“When was the last time you ate, Olie?” Kass was trying for nonchalance, but her worried tone wasn’t lost on me.
I shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t remember.”
“You look thinner,” Logan commented, putting the menu down.
“I’ve been busy. But enough about me, why are you three hunting me down?”
Logan shifted in his chair and Kass stared daggers at him. “Actually, Kass, why don’t you tell me,” I amended. “It’ll be so much faster.”
“Lorraine is spending Logan into debt.” Her disgust was plain.
“How did she get access to his money?” I asked, picking up a piece of bread the server delivered. We interrupted our conversation to order.
Logan cleared his throat, “She is handling my personal finances, so I can focus on the shifters properly.”
“Handling you into bankruptcy.” I laughed at my own joke.
He didn’t share my mirth, so I went on. “How many personal bills could you possibly have, anyways?” Grams handled all of my finances.
“A lot,” he informed me cryptically.
Rolling my eyes, I turned to Kass with a shrug. “I’m okay with him being poor.”
Kass huffed, “He is borrowing from us. Darren just started his new personal security business and Logan’s incompetence is making my life fucking miserable.”
Darren rubbed the bridge of his nose and Logan said nothing. The fact that they were brothers was undeniable. In addition to the strong set of their jaws and the natural tan I was so jealous of, they also carried themselves with an unmistakable confidence—although in Logan’s case, I like to call it his asshole-ness.
“Why can’t Kass do your books? You handle Darren’s at home, right?” I suggested.
Kass narrowed her eyes at me. “I do.”
“And you are managing to avoid bankruptcy,” I confirmed.
“We are doing just fine,” her eyes narrowed further.
“I like it,” Logan said stuffing his face with bread.
“Why do I have to babysit his poor decisions?” she groaned, annoyed.
“I’ve been asking myself that a lot, and the only answer I come up with is because you married Darren.” I shrugged. I had at least made my peace with the fact the shifters’ future and my own were now firmly intertwined.
“Ugh, so true. You were never so involved in the shifter sphere.” She rubbed the back of her neck, shifting in the chair uncomfortably with her growing belly.
I licked my lips greedily as our food was delivered.
“Have you seen Jerry?” I asked, biting down into the greasy cheese pizza.