by Danica Avet
Grant hated her outfit. His entire body tensed as some of the shifters gave wolf whistles at the sight of her. It was too much bared skin as far as he was concerned. She shouldn’t be wearing such skimpy clothing, he groused even as his eyes ate her up. She had scars all over her back and shoulders. Some of them looked like they came from blades, but a few of them on her back were definitely claw marks.
He and Ricky leaned forward as Isola turned away from them, giving them a perfect view of her back. Yup, claw marks.
“Bear claws,” Ricky muttered darkly. “No wonder she doesn’t like us much.”
Grant squinted. “Can you tell which kind?” he asked his cousin even as he aimed a kick at one overly eager lion’s head. The lion hissed, turning to face Grant who cracked his knuckles. “Stop looking at her like that and I won’t rearrange your face, cat.”
A big elbow slammed into Grant’s ribs. “Let the boy look, Grant, he’s barely out of transition. You remember what those days were like,” Ricky told him.
Yes, he did remember, which is why he planned to kick the young lion’s ass first chance he got. Giving the younger male another cold glare, he turned his attention back to the center of the room. The women stood in the center of the ring of shifters for the ref to quiet the crowd.
Duffy, the bar owner and one of the crankiest demon lords Grant had ever met, meandered to join the women. He was even bigger than Ricky and no one gave him trouble. Ever. His height and width made the two women look like children though they were both tall females. He looked them over, his black eyes studying them carefully. He seemed satisfied by what he saw because he nodded.
When his gaze lifted and pierced the crowd, everyone stopped talking and some even seemed to stop breathing. “This is gonna be a clean fight. No weapons, no claws, no teeth. First to surrender loses and owes the winner a year’s service in any capacity she chooses.” Some of the younger males in the audience snickered, earning a dark look from the demon lord. “No outside help. The fight lasts until someone surrenders or I’m too damn bored to keep it going. Got it?” He pinned each of the women in place with his gaze.
Isola nodded with a smile while Lisa glared back at the demon before shrugging. “Sure.”
“Okay then,” Duffy said, taking a step away from the women. “Fight.”
Chapter Eleven
Lisa immediately circled the ring looking for an opportunity to jump. Isola cracked her neck and jumped a few times, shaking her hands out. The brilliant smile on her face gave Grant a bad, bad feeling.
Apparently Lisa felt the same because she snarled, “What the fuck are you smiling at, Amazon?”
“Oh, you know, just wondering how you’re gonna like cooking and cleaning for an entire Amazon tribe,” Isola said easily. She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Although I might be greedy and keep you as my personal servant. I hate to clean.”
Lisa gave a muted scream of rage and attacked. She was a whirlwind of fists and feet as she went after Isola. Grant held his breath. Shifters might not be quite as strong as their animal halves in human form, but they were still a lot stronger than the average human. If Isola had agreed to this fight, he wouldn’t stand in her way, but he also wouldn’t let her get hurt.
“Calm yourself,” Ricky told him as Grant jumped to his feet when one of Lisa’s fists connected with Isola’s shoulder. “She’s a fucking Amazon, cuz. They’re known for hand-to-hand combat.”
“Yeah, but Lisa’s a crazy bitch.”
Ricky gave him a disbelieving look. “And Isola isn’t?”
Grant ignored his cousin, concentrating on the fight. The crowd ate it up, cheering for Lisa who was a local and a shifter. Isola looked as though she wouldn’t last long. She barely seemed able to defend herself from the hits raining over her body. She ducked, she blocked, but Lisa came after her in a relentless barrage of punches and kicks Grant had trouble tracking with his eyes.
Duffy circled the pair, his eyes watchful for any cheating, but stayed out of their way. Once or twice, he even winced as Lisa connected with Isola in a solid hit. Grant wanted to close his eyes as he watched his proud Amazon get the shit beat out of her.
Then something changed. He wasn’t sure when it happened or exactly what happened, but Lisa started to flag. She stumbled a couple of feet away from Isola, sweat pouring off her body. Isola straightened, looking as though she’d just had a full body massage. Everyone felt the change, and the shouting stopped until Grant could only hear uneasy whispers as everyone waited to see what the Amazon would do.
Isola smiled, a glint in her eye that reminded Grant of every single time she tormented someone. It was full of mischief. It was a smile full of trouble.
* * * *
Her blood pumping through her veins with excitement and the thrill of the fight, Izzy felt ten feet tall. The mountain lion looked worn out, which was exactly what Izzy had planned. Oh sure, if the fight would’ve been claws out, she would’ve gone for the cat rather than let the cat come for her. Instead, knowing the shifter probably didn’t fight as much in human form as she did her cat form, Izzy had let Lisa build some confidence and exhaust herself.
Izzy crouched, preparing to spring for the other woman when she saw Grant’s face in the corner of the bar. Instantly, her brain went into hibernation, replaying images of the minotaur stroking that magnificent cock of his. Her focus lost, she stared at the male and forgot all about the cat in front of her.
A vicious right hook connected with her jaw, snapping her out of her daze.
“Goddammit!” Izzy shouted, pressing a hand to her jaw. It wasn’t broken, but it was close. She glared at the cat that looked smug yet tired. “Okay, I’m finished playing with your furry ass.”
Letting loose with the Blood Maiden war cry, Izzy launched herself at the lioness. She forgot about the male, sort of, while she pummeled her opponent. Grabbing the cat’s arm in a tight lock, Izzy brought the woman to the ground, pinning her in place. Laughing happily, she then proceeded to twist Lisa like a pretzel, using some of her sisters’ favorite moves. She loved nothing more than a good wrestle.
The demon referee circled them, making sure no one had weapons or claws out, but Izzy ignored him. She wasn’t going to let some no-good cat think she could talk smack about Izzy Malone. She was an Amazon and proud of it. Let all the shifters have their claws and teeth, she could maim just as well with her bare hands and this cat would never forget it.
Something sharp raked across Izzy’s arm, but she ignored the pain and the roar of a male. Pressing down on the pinned arm, Izzy gripped Lisa’s hair with her free hand. Blood poured down her arm and the area was going numb which might be indication of nerve damage. Stupid cat bitch. She got a good hold on the cat’s head.
Without remorse, Izzy slammed Lisa’s head into the floor over and over again until the cat stopped moving. She wasn’t dead. No, Izzy knew just how much damage the shifter could take and went no further than that. Breathing deeply, she released the thick, tawny hair and sat up again.
Silence reigned supreme in the bar and she looked around warily. The shifters looked stunned. She pushed to her feet, keeping her body loose and relaxed. She wouldn’t put it passed one of the fuckers to come after her for beating their champion.
The demon owner, Duffy, came up next to her and grabbed her wrist. Though Izzy resisted, he lifted her arm in the air.
“Winner,” he grumbled, the grumpy look on his face not telling Izzy anything. He dropped Izzy’s arm and kicked Lisa’s foot. “Someone take this oath breaker out of here, fix her up, and then send her south to start her year of service.” He turned to Izzy without checking to see if anyone would obey. “Drinks on the house for you, girl.”
“Sweet,” Izzy said with a false smile. Her whole arm was numb now, but she refused to show weakness in front of anyone, least of all a demon lord. The last one she’d come across had been Noelani’s tormentor, and she’d burned that fucker’s house after he was dead. It’d taken a Dämon-Fluch, or Demon Bane
, to kill the demon lord. Those guns were strictly licensed, which meant she couldn’t buy one no matter how good she’d pretended to be.
Duffy grunted and moved back to the bar. The crowd of shifters parted like the Red Sea, closing up behind Izzy as she followed Duffy to the long mahogany bar. The demon grunted at a bear shifter sitting on one of the stools, and the bear wisely vacated.
“Sit,” Duffy commanded Izzy with a press of his big hand on her shoulder.
She really hated following orders, but since he wanted to give her free drinks, she sat. Izzy wasn’t stupid, free drinks meant she could get loaded without dipping into her savings. She watched the demon circle the bar and start mixing a drink.
The shifters were all around her, all staring, but no one said a word. It was unnerving, but she held her emotions in check. If someone wanted to rumble, she was more than willing to—
A hand grabbed her shoulder and she instinctively grabbed the arm attached to it and threw the toucher over the bar. It happened so fast, Izzy didn’t have time to stop herself when she realized it was the cop.
Duffy ducked as the bear went flying over his head to crash into the bottles on the wall. Izzy winced, her shoulders up around her ears as she closed her eyes. Oh shit, she’d just thrown a cop across a bar. She could plead insanity. Maybe?
Ricky slowly came to his feet, a bland expression on his face. Izzy gave him a sick smile. “Are you going to arrest me now, or after I have my drink?”
Some of the shifters laughed softly watching the exchange. Ricky shook his head. Planting one big hand on the bar, he vaulted over it to land next to Izzy. She should’ve been uneasy, but the fight had taken some of the fear out of her. Especially when she noticed the way the bear made sure to keep his movements slow and easy.
“I should throw your ass in jail as a public service, lady,” he rumbled as he dusted glass off his uniform. “But I won’t. I wanted to know if you wanted to press charges against Lisa for fighting dirty.”
Duffy slammed some concoction in front of her. It looked black, but smelled good. Without bothering to ask what it was, Izzy slammed the drink back. Her hand clenching on the glass was the only outward sign she made of the drink’s strength. Inside, however, it felt as though she’d swallowed a swarm of killer bees. The drink burned her mouth, her throat before it settled in her stomach where it hit like an H-bomb, heat flowing up and outward throughout her entire body.
“Shit, did you see that?” someone whispered over the loud murmurings of the crowd. “She drank Duffy’s Atomic Bomb in one shot!”
Izzy wasn’t sure if she could respond to Ricky, or the crowd who seemed to find this amazing. There didn’t seem to be any air. Black dots danced before her eyes and for a moment, she was afraid she’d pass out. However, slowly, feeling crept back into her body and she was finally able to take a full breath. She felt amazing!
Duffy, with a small quirk of his lips that could’ve passed for a smile, placed another drink in front of Izzy. This time she sipped at it, enjoying the blast of heat pinging through her body.
“Nah, don’t press charges,” she told Ricky as someone else came up so close behind her, she could feel their body heat.
“But she cheated,” the bear insisted, looking slightly ferocious.
But instead of being afraid of him, Izzy patted his shoulder. This drink was the best! “Don’t worry, Smokey, she’ll get hers when my sisters take her in hand.”
A blunt fingertip smoothed down the back of her injured arm, the sensation rocketing through her. Her nipples hardened immediately and warmth flooded her pussy. She knew without looking around that Grant had made his way to her side. She didn’t want to look at him because all she’d see was how he looked as he came.
Ricky was talking to her, the other shifters were jesting back and forth, but Izzy’s entire focus was on the fingertip trailing up her shoulder and neck to swirl around her ear. The muscles in her stomach contracted with need and more wetness soaked her panties.
“You smell delicious,” the damned bull murmured in her ear. His breath eased over the sensitive flesh making her entire body shudder visibly. His other hand came around to land on the bar on the side of her, effectively caging her on the stool. “That was some fight, Isola.”
Why hadn’t she noticed before how erotic her name sounded on his lips? She closed her eyes and fought the urge to lean back against his chest. The alcohol was affecting her ability to reason. She really should stop, she thought even as she took another sip of the fiery mixture.
“Shouldn’t have let her get that last punch in,” he continued, his finger coasting over her jaw.
Since it was his fault she’d let her guard down, Izzy rammed her elbow into his diaphragm. His breath left him in a whoosh. She smiled slightly and sipped her drink.
“Oy, Grant, let us meet the little lady properly,” a hearty voice called out.
“Yeah, man. You’re not the only minotaur in the area,” another voice shouted, his voice a distinct whine.
“Before you start thinking you have a fan club, you should realize we can all smell your arousal,” Grant whispered in her ear over the shouts of others.
Izzy froze her drink halfway to her mouth. Her gaze lifted from the bar to the bear standing on the other side of Grant’s arm barrier. She knew there was no real attraction between her and Ricky, but his face was flushed with color and his brown eyes dilated. Oh, fuck.
* * * *
Grant leaned in, breathing deeply of rose and feminine musk. His cock throbbed with want. He knew the other male shifters in the bar smelled the same thing he did and it made him want to roar. As though her scent wasn’t enough to drive them wild, watching two females battle it out was guaranteed to pump up the lust of the shifters. There was just something about hearing those feminine grunts and groans as they fought, the scent of their sweat, and the flex of lean muscles that made a man’s cock harden into steel.
He’d loved watching Isola, but hadn’t liked seeing the lust on the other males’ faces. Even now that the fight was over and she’d established dominance, Isola was far too tempting to Grant and the males he once considered friends. He wanted to throw her over his shoulder, muscle her into the bathroom, and fuck her against one of the sinks. Hell, if they were alone, she’d be bent over the bar with her leather pants around her knees.
Closing his eyes to keep from doing just that, he concentrated on the words bouncing over his head as more and more shifters demanded a chance to talk to her. It wouldn’t kill him to let them meet her. He did want Isola to be comfortable here. She’d already earned their respect by kicking Lisa’s ass.
Before he’d let them talk to her though, he’d have to stake a claim. Eyeing the satiny soft skin beneath her ear, he longed to take a bite even though he’d told her minotaurs didn’t bite. It had been a truth at the time, but after watching her fight, after smelling her rosy musk, he was tempted to do as his wolf, cat, and bear cousins did and leave his mark on her.
Hell, his mouth was watering at the idea.
Someone bumped into him. “Move out of the way, lad, we want to meet the Amazon,” a Scottish-accented voice said from behind him.
Grant leaned his forehead on the top of Isola’s head, wishing the rest of the shifters would go away so he could woo his female. But the persistent tapping him on his shoulder told him they wouldn’t leave her alone until matters were settled.
He knew who the shifter was. The male worked for Grant once in a while when he needed extra muscle on the job, but right now, Nelson Anders was a male trying to horn in on Grant’s territory.
Pressing a soft, butterfly kiss to the crown of Isola’s head, Grant took a deep breath. And shifted into his minotaur form, a roar of possessive rage escaping him as he whirled to face the threat to his female.
Chapter Twelve
Izzy sipped yet another drink with outward calm. She wasn’t going to look behind her to see Grant tearing the bar apart. No she wasn’t. Because if she did, she’d
forget all about that “m” word his mother had tossed around and grab that big bull by the horns. The wet heat between her legs was ready for him, for everything he could give her, but her head wouldn’t let her give in. Ever.
The scars on her back throbbed with each beat of her heart, a harsh reminder of what happened when you got close to a shifter with a protective family. She didn’t need to relearn the lesson with a horn in her ass. Grant was off-limits. Which is probably why I want him so much, she thought with a snort.
She frowned at her drink. “Duffy, I don’ shink thish drink is working,” she slurred at the demon.
He grunted at her. “Why?”
“’Cause I can still shink straight.”
Ricky, who’d stayed behind while Grant fought, laughed loudly. “I think that’s your problem, missy,” he shouted over the roars and snarls filling the bar. “You don’t think at all. What did you imagine these shifters would do when you walked in with that petting zoo line?”
Izzy shrugged. “It was better to have them pished off and not thinking than rational and able to smell how closh I was to wetting my pants.” She finished the broken drink.
“So you were scared?” Duffy grunted as he plunked another Atomic Bomb in front of her.
“Shit yeah,” she slurred, swigging back some of the fresh drink. “Ahh, this is the besh drink, Puffy.”
“It’s Duffy, lady.”
“Dash what I shaid. Puffy. Any-hoo, I might have shelf-control issues, but I’m not shtupid. Shtupid.” She frowned. “Dash a funny word. Shtupid.”
The sounds behind her were dying down, but she still refused to look.
“Why won’t you look?” Ricky asked her curiously.