The Fighter

by Reina Torres

Dom smiled, and Cage saw more than just the hint of fang. “Fuck me.”

  “Address?”

  The plainclothes officer rattled off the address, and Dom snatched Cage’s phone. The claws were no help with texting. Within moments he’d sent out the message to the nearly thirty shifters they had in the neighborhood, waiting for a chance to help.

  Dom tossed the phone back at Cage. “I put my phone number in your contacts.”

  “I’m not in the market for a pet.” Cage felt his jaguar snarl at the wolf. All his cat saw and smelled was dog. But Cage told his jaguar exactly what the score was. “But if you continue to be helpful,” he grinned, “I’ll buy you a drink when this is over.”

  “Fuck that, kitty cat. You’re buying me a six-pack. Of Scotch.”

  Devlin looked up into the rear view mirror. “Done with the interspecies bonding? We’re almost there.”

  Just when Maggie’s wishful side was starting to hope that she’d talked the men into leaving them, someone grew a spine.

  Pressing the muzzle of his gun to the back of her head, he whispered into her ear. “You’re going to come with us.”

  One of the other men swore, but Maggie didn’t even try to look. She needed to keep her eyes on the man determined to use her one way or another.

  “Put the girl in the van. Leave some room for the girlfriend by the back window. In case he wants to try to stop us, we’ll just show him what he could lose forever if he doesn’t let us leave.”

  The man marching past them with his hands under Frances’ arms narrowed his eyes. “You’re going to let her live?”

  Shrugging only dug the end of the gun into the back of her head. “I didn’t say that. We just need him to give us enough room to get into the air. Once we’re up, we’re gone.” He leaned closer again and she felt his breath on her cheek. “I don’t think your boyfriend can fly.”

  Maggie blew out a breath. She was close enough to stick her elbow into his middle far enough to cause some bleeding, but she was at the wrong angle to break a rib. Still, the thoughts were comforting.

  She just had to keep it together long enough to give them a chance.

  “Hey!”

  He shifted his hold on her arm and pulled it high so that she was under his control. And she had to walk carefully to keep him from popping her arm out of its socket and that made their walk slower than she’d like.

  But outside, she understood the reality of her hell. The white paneled van had the much too familiar logo for Sylvan City Electric on the side. They were going to drive right through town and get away. Smart.

  The fuckers.

  Inside the van, Frances was laid out on the ground, her face and body slack in a medically induced sleep.

  The man she was quickly developing a raging case of hate for all but shoved her up into the van. Maggie stumbled forward and came down hard on her hands and knees. The pain through her legs was sharp and pushed a sob from her lips. She hadn’t been able to break her fall with her hands still bound together.

  The man climbing in behind her placed the muzzle of the gun into her lower back as he closed the door. “That looks like a good position for you,” he scoffed, “I bet he likes you on all fours.”

  She shut out his words. There was one thing that she had to hold onto, and that was her sanity. She couldn’t let herself go into a rage. She’d done that as a rebellious and desperately lonely teenager. She’d grown beyond that now.

  Hadn’t she?

  Yes, she had.

  Casting an angry look over her shoulder she went to sit beside Frances’ resting form.

  A heartbeat later the van lurched forward, heading for the street.

  Cage didn’t know this part of the town well, but he trusted Dom, who seemed to know every back alley and seedy hole in the wall. He swore that the warehouse where Maggie and Frances were being held was just a little more than a block ahead.

  He concentrated on breathing. Long, calming breaths that were meant to hold him in his human form.

  Still, his jaguar was at the ready, aching to do his bidding.

  They wanted their mate and cub home safely.

  Looking through the windshield at the road ahead, he heard Devlin on the radio speaking with a number of people at once. From what he could understand of the jumble of communications at least three of Devlin’s men were close enough to be there within the minute, the others, including his own men, were expected soon.

  This was it.

  This was the time to act. Surround the warehouse and take back his family.

  But sometimes fate was ready with a sucker punch.

  A van, white and painted with the SCE logo on the side pushed through the open gateway of the warehouse and bumped onto the street.

  Cage saw the driver turn and look at their car. He looked and made a quick grab for the wheel, turning toward them. And when he’d managed that, he aimed straight for the grill of their car.

  “Ah fuck me,” Dom growled, “he thinks he’s Ramius, but I’m not fucking Tupelov.”

  Cage didn’t understand, but Devlin made some kind of quippy comment about Sean Connery and Cage tuned them both out as Dom pulled the car aside and then swung around hard behind the van. “This car is nice, Devlin. I want one.”

  “Just drive, damnit.”

  Devlin was busy relaying the change in plans while Dom was chasing after the vehicle, trying to obey two masters at one time. Devlin ordering him to get on the van’s tail and Cage demanding they stay back. The last thing he wanted or needed was a wreck.

  Devlin turned in his seat speaking over the radio in his hand. “The warehouse is empty. They must all be in the-”

  The windshield exploded in shards of glass, leaving a big fractured hole as Cage felt slivers pierce his skin.

  He saw Dom’s pistol in his hand.

  “Put it away. You might shoot one of them.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m planning to do, kitty.” With one hand on the wheel he aimed the pistol at the vehicle, low, to the left.

  Cage grabbed the seat under him, fingers piercing the durable leather seats and tearing through the padding. “Don’t!”

  Maggie fell against the inside wall of the van, the back of her head taking a good solid hit against the metal.

  The driver swore, a rather impressive string of curses that as a military daughter, Maggie could truly appreciate, but what made her even happier is that the curses were because they were being followed. At least the pain she was going to feel was going to be worth it.

  Inching closer to Frances she saw something that had her forcing herself to move even higher, blocking more of Frances from the men.

  There was a distinct grimace tightening Frances’ features, her fingertips curling toward her palms.

  That’s it, she whispered in her head, too scared to say any of it out loud, wake up.

  The van turned at some kind of corner and for a moment, Maggie thought they’d tip over with the way the floor shifted beneath her. Grabbing her fingers onto the edge of the large wooden panel laid on the floor. It was enough to keep her from sliding about, but the bag that one of the men had been carrying about slid across the floor in her direction.

  The small black messenger bag came to a sudden stop against her thigh as she braced Frances’ slowly rousing form. Something metal in the bag felt as if it had left something that would blossom into a bruise in time. Shoving it to the side, she leaned over Frances.

  She heard a soft moan and sought to soothe the girl. “Slowly,” she cautioned as Frances’ eyes opened and found her face, “quietly.”

  “Drive faster!”

  A gun was waved in her direction as she turned, hoping to draw attention to just her own movements.

  A shot rang out and Maggie held her breath. The van twisted and dipped down toward the back. The gunman used the stock of his weapon to knock out part of the window in the back of the vehicle, pointed the barrel out and shot again.

  She wanted to scream NO! but she
held silent by biting her tongue. She knew who he was firing at. She could feel it in her bones. She could feel that Cage was near, but she wasn’t just going to sit still and wait for him to come and get her.

  Turning herself around she grabbed the messenger bag from the ground and yanked it open. The heavy metal tin opened up easily enough, but it was the interior that made her sigh. Ketamine in pretty little bottles and empty syringes. She may have had a dark past, but needles, those she didn’t use. It made her cringe.

  Still, she grabbed a syringe and tried to get it into the top of the bottle, but her hands were making it nearly impossible. Leaning forward he managed to wrap her lips around the body of the syringe and lifted the bottle to the needle. Pulling back, she pulled the stopper. She might be getting it wrong, but at that moment doing nothing was worse.

  A soft groan behind her gave her hope. Whispering to Frances was all she could do and hope that her better than human hearing wasn’t as sluggish as she was.

  Frances. I hope you’re awake. I’m going to need you.

  “Cars are closing in, Cage, we don’t have to chase them down, just box them in.”

  Silence from Cage turned Devlin’s head. He was just in time to see Cage open the door.

  Well, ‘open’ was a little too pat of a description.

  The car door came off at the hinges and was flung out of his sight.

  And Cage jumped out after it.

  Maggie managed to get up, even with the ache in her head making the world swim around her. She got up and moved to the front of the van. She knew the man in the passenger seat had a gun, all three men had one, but that wasn’t the point. She needed to slow them down. Now.

  She had no idea exactly where she had to stick them with the needle. But there’s a first time for everything. Biting down on her lip, she leaned into the front of the van and brought the needle down into the shoulder of the driver and depressed the plunger.

  The driver made a grab for the syringe and the van veered wildly to the right. It was the reason, the only reason that the man in the passenger seat fired wide, drilling a hole through the ceiling.

  Maggie fell back and went skidding against the opposite wall. When she looked across the van she saw Frances, eyes open, staring back at her. It was the most beautiful sight she’d ever seen.

  Scooting up onto her knees she started to crawl across the floor, dodging things sliding across the wooden planks. Frances rolled on her side and reached out, coming within inches.

  Cage jumped up on the back bumper of the van and reached through the broken window at the shooter. He grabbed the man by the throat and used his free hand to open the door. He turned his head away from the man to pull the door free and when he turned back, he got a face full of a bright flare. The roaring sound was deafening in his ear, the searing pain of fire sizzled across his skin.

  A line along his temple hurt like blazes and he was damn sure the bullet had at least scored his flesh. He hoped it hadn’t gone any deeper. His family needed him.

  The main door fell to the asphalt and sent up sparks flying in all directions. He side-stepped a second bullet, ducking in the opening, he came face to face with one of the men who had dared to touch his child… and his mate.

  He didn’t wait for the man to act or say a word. He reached out and closed his fingers around the man’s throat. Digging in along the sides of the man’s neck he clamped down on the blood flow. He wanted to kill him.

  Wanted to bathe in his blood.

  Wanted to tear him to pieces… but he wanted to get the man who hired him. So he flung him against the wall and moved on. He spared one look at Maggie and Frances. Seeing them whole and alive he was able to move on and take the next step.

  The man in the passenger seat saw him coming. Turning around in his seat, he pointed a gun at Cage.

  The only thought in his head was ‘not again.’

  He wasn’t going to let this man come between him and his family.

  Not again.

  The gun went off and Cage felt the impact push him back a few inches. The pain that came with it was returned right back to the shooter. A punch knocked the man against the door just as the van jumped up in the air about a foot and turned on its side.

  Maggie had always laughed at those scenes in the movies where the bomb explodes, or the car goes flying off the overpass and everything seems to hover in mid-air as they plummet to the ground. How many times had she sat in the theater, munching on popcorn laughing at the scene thinking. “Ha! Right! Like that would ever happen!”

  And suddenly it was.

  She was tumbling through the air as if the world was suddenly on snail time in the space station. It would likely be the first and last time that she felt weightless and yet she had no opportunity to enjoy the feeling.

  In the middle of it, she saw Frances, beautiful Frances with her green hair plunging after her. Rushing through space with her eyes glittering like jewels, her hand reaching out as if she could dive through the air and catch her before she fell.

  And then the fall, didn’t happen.

  The metallic wall behind her screamed against the blacktop, shouting down the injustice of the accident. But when the brunt of the impact hit, she didn’t feel the hard wall behind her, or the sandpaper of the city street.

  What she felt was the hard wall of Cage’s chest behind her, his arms wrapped around her and beside her, smiling from ear to ear, the young woman that had won her heart so many times over.

  Almost bouncing up onto her hands and knees, Frances looked down at Maggie and Cage with a glint in her eyes and the flash of fangs visible between her lips. “I am never… ever… EVER… going back to England again!”

  Maggie heard the shouts from outside the van, saw Devlin and others rushing toward the ruined doors.

  “Watch out for the glass!” Not far behind Devlin, Maggie saw Truck jogging over with some of the other shifters from the gym and the club.

  Frances turned toward the doors and gave them a warning. “Give me some room!”

  Devlin stepped back, but the last thing Maggie saw as Frances dove through the opening was a startled man in a leather jacket hit the pavement as a tawny lioness soared over his head and landed with a triumphant roar.

  Truck stopped short and gave an answering shout. Frances bounded over to him and jumped up in the air. Maggie rolled gently on her side in time to see the biggest guy she knew, holding the biggest lion she’d ever seen like it was a cute little kitten.

  “Oh, thank God.” Maggie started to tremble as Devlin lifted up the remaining door at the back of the van. Stepping up inside he examined the unconscious man in the back.

  Raising his gaze to meet hers, he gave her a smile. “Glad to see you’re okay.” He looked behind her. “Go ahead and take her to the hospital, get her checked out. Or I can call an ambulance-”

  “No,” it was Maggie who was answering him, managing to wedge an arm underneath her, only to have it give way. “Ow!”

  Cage shifted behind her and swept her up into his arms, severing the ties that held her hands together.

  “Hey, be careful!”

  She felt the rough stubble of his cheek against hers and the deep growl of his voice in her ear. “I’m always careful with you, mate.”

  Maggie wiggled in his embrace as he stepped out of the van and felt his chest push against her shoulder with a deep indrawn breath. “I meant, careful for your back, I’m not that small-”

  “You’re everything you’re supposed to be. Everything I need.”

  She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Cage, stop-”

  “Maggie, look at me.” When she didn’t move he said it again. “Maggie. Look. At. Me.”

  She couldn’t help but give him what he wanted. He’d given her everything, including his strength. “Yeah?”

  “Don’t ask me to let you go, Maggie. Not yet.” He let out a shuddering breath. “Can’t you feel my heart pounding in my chest?”

  She grew quiet and eve
n with the celebration going on around them, she felt the thundering rush of his heart and that’s when the tears started to fall. Maggie managed to get her good arm up and around his neck and pulled him closer.

  Inch by inch, Cage lowered her to the ground, but once he managed to get his lips on hers they didn’t stop until the world around them had gone completely quiet.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The fallout from weeks before had been spectacular in both good ways and bad. When Maggie had left the diner to chase after Frances, she’d left the stove on. And before they’d managed to get home, Sylvan City Firehouse Six and Two had answered the alarm. The diner had been gutted, and Maggie’s apartment was a loss. The walls on three sides were still standing, but pretty much everything else was ash or ruined by the smoke.

  A quick trip to the local discount store got Maggie enough shirts, pants, and underwear to make it through to laundry day, but when she’d realized that she’d forgotten stuff to sleep in at night, Cage proved it wasn’t a problem. He kept her warm at night, wrapped up in his arms.

  And it didn’t shock anyone how easily three people fit into the two person apartment. Frances seemed to enjoy it the most. On fight nights, Cage couldn’t wait to get upstairs after the events. He’d let himself in as quietly as possible just so he wouldn’t disturb them. He’d stop in the doorway and see the two most important women in his life cuddled up on the couch.

  Sometimes they’d be watching a random movie from the Silver Screen Net App, with Frances gobbling down handfuls of whatever snacks they had in the kitchen. But some nights he’d come in and the two ladies would be sound asleep with Frances’ head pillowed on Maggie’s lap, Maggie’s fingers combed through Frances’ emerald green hair.

  Those were the nights that he’d stand just inside the doorway and watch them sleep. He’d come so close to losing them that every moment was precious.

  Oh, he’d taken a good ribbing from the guys at the gym and at the fights, but he didn’t care. It felt good. Once a solitary man, a shifter ready to live out the rest of his life working with his old friends, somehow, he’d ended up with a daughter and a mate, and a home that made him feel satisfied.