The two men had retreated to get away from the sickening love fest going on inside the house. There were now three happy couples invading Diesel’s home, along with a passel of other random creatures, and it was enough to give anyone a migraine. At the very least, it brought to mind unwanted thoughts, about places and people who belonged in the past.
Diesel shook his head, unwilling to go down that rabbit hole. He glanced at the moody fallen angel, trying to catch a glimpse of those grotesque wings.
“So… what’s your story?” Yes, okay, the both of them had come out here for peace and quiet. But Vesper had been popping in and out for a couple weeks now, and they had yet to exchange a word. Diesel couldn’t help but pry.
The angel shrugged, his face closed off but for its ever-present frown. “I don’t have a story.”
“Ha! I hear you’ve been alive for over four hundred years? You don’t get to be that old without having a story or two.”
Vesper’s frown deepened. “That wasn’t information that needed to be shared with you.”
“There’s a reason that everyone comes running to my place when they need shelter. I’m good with secrets, and I can be trusted. Of course, I don’t always want to hear everything that I do…” Diesel trailed off.
The fire crackled in the night, and from somewhere nearby an owl called out. Diesel looked towards the sound uneasily.
“Why are you so jumpy?” Vesper didn’t want to encourage Diesel, but his inexplicable paranoia was getting old.
“Uhhh, there have been some issues lately. Grumbling in the city. One of my friends has a hit out on him… it’s just hard to feel safe in a world where any tree or owl could be waiting to kill you.” Diesel was still straining to see the owl in the night.
“Why not just search the property, put up ward spells, normal protective measures?” The angel was not even a little concerned.
“You just can’t trust any old witch to do what she says and not hex your place. And sure, I patrol, but I have a lot of land. It would be easy for something to camp out in the woods without alerting me.”
Vesper shrugged. “Seems like you have powerful friends. I’m sure they’d be willing to help you out.”
Diesel gave up on the owl and went back to leaning against the tree. “Oh I’m sure they would. Unfortunately, I mostly hang out with other shifters. Outside of patrolling the grounds, our magic isn’t really suited to home defense.”
A wry smile ghosted across Vesper’s lips. “What are you talking about? What with all the weird people showing up? You have a G.H.O.S.T., a shifter who knows traditional spells better than most magicians, a wind spirit, hawk shifter, hell, even a fucking Goddess. The Witch Goddess, if I’m not mistaken. I’m sure the lot of you could figure something out.”
“And what about you? Guardian angels don’t have any special talents?”
The smile vanished from Vesper’s face. “I’m not a guardian angel. Never was, and definitely not now.”
Obviously Diesel had struck a nerve, but it was late and he was tired of dancing around everyone’s hang-ups. “Look, I get it. Something bad happened, and you’re not done being upset about it. That’s kind of the theme these days – everyone has a disturbing back story. The past doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me. “
The tiger shifter shoved off the tree with a frustrated growl. “Well you need to get over it. You’re no good to anyone like this – mopey, prone to disappearing for days, slowly starving to death. For fucks sake, do something to make up for your past, instead of just wallowing in the memories like a little bitch.”
Vesper’s face darkened with rage – he couldn’t believe the gall Diesel had to question him like this. He had no idea what had happened.
“Shut your mouth! How could you possibly know? You hide out here, in your fancy house, tons of land at your disposal. You have no idea what it’s like to fight for survival, to have to bow to the whims of the more powerful. You have no idea…”
Diesel’s eyes were glimmering pits of gold as he started at the angel, hardly believing the idiocy boiling out of his mouth. Closing them against the night, he thought back, reliving that fateful day…
As the bell goes off, I shake my sweaty bangs out of my eyes and do my best to ignore the jeering crowd. My focus needs to be on the dangerous siren standing in front of me. And by ‘siren’, I mean Succubus. She seems bewildered – probably a trap. I’ve never faced a Succubus before, but I’ve heard tales. How they reduce men to drooling piles of mush. But I won’t drop my guard. I’ve been fighting and killing in this hellhole for years. I’m the best they’ve got. No woman is going to come in and charm me to death.
The crowd wants me to fail though. Sure, they cheered for me when I was just a scrappy cub, getting beaten to a pulp. It was different then. Matches weren’t to the death, for one thing. And I wasn’t the reigning champion. Besides, if I kill the Succubus, they won’t get to watch her fine ass in the next fight. But wait. The devil herself speaks.
“Pst. Hey. Kid. Care to clue me in here?”
I say nothing, merely baring my teeth in a snarl. She won’t fool me.
“I mean, I’m not an idiot. Looks like we’re supposed to be beating on each other. Why though? What is this place?”
Is this how she does it? Lulls people into a sense of security with inane questions? I should just get it over with. Rip her throat out. But some worthless sense of humanity keeps me from fighting people who are just standing there. They need to fight back. Kill or be killed.
“Duuuude what is your deal. Just standing there like an idiot, snarling at me for fucks sake. Are you feral?”
Good question. Was I feral? Had my captors removed every shred of decency and civility from me? Was I no better than a chained monster now? With effort, I closed my lips and covered my fangs. I would speak with the woman, but I would not let my guard down. Although, maybe it was time to die.
“Not completely feral, no. Why don’t you fight me?”
The succubus feigns surprise at my voice. “Behold, it speaks! And why the fuck would I fight you? You might be the only one who will tell me why I’m here.”
I roll my eyes at her attitude. “Why would I know why you’re here? You’re just another victim for my teeth. I don’t know where they get you all.”
She wrinkles her nose, and I notice how green her eyes are. “Eww, your teeth? I think you are feral. Doesn’t matter. I know how I got here, I guess. Deal gone wrong, pissed off the wrong people, knocked over the head, and voila, here I am. But what happens now? We fight to death?”
I look at her like she is stupid. Because she is. “Yes. To the death.”
“Okay, and then what happens to the victor? Do they have the option of freedom?”
More stupidity. “No.”
This seems to excite her for some reason. “Okay then! So, these are our options: A - Fight to the death. Whoever wins gets to do it over and over again until they inevitably bite the dust. Or B – We team up, rip our way through these hordes of idiots, and make a very dramatic escape.”
I am dumbfounded. In the thousands of fights I’d been in here, not one of my opponents had offered such a thing. Was it possible? Could I really escape, and not via death? I scan the room, looking for an exit. We are in a metal cage, with doors behind each of us - where the fighters would enter. One other door leads to a staircase, surrounded by mobs of ravenous fans. They are getting angry. They want blood. Which only means that we need to hurry. My eyes follow the stairs upwards to another door. This door has a tiny window. So insignificant, that window, except for the fact that I can see sunlight through it. We have our escape. That is, if we had any way to get the initial door open. I turn back to the Succubus.
“Side door. Stairs. Daylight. But this is a cage. I don’t see any way to get that first door open.”
She follows my gaze and grins wickedly. “You mean that door with the two beefy guards on either side? The guards with giant key rings?”<
br />
“Yea, that door.”
She cracks her neck and starts running her fingers through her hair. “Not a problem. The audience might be though. I’m alright in a fight, but they can just dogpile us.”
I flash her a real grin, full of fang. “Not a problem.” Dropping to the ground, I shift. My skin ripples with magic as stripes flow over it. In a matter of seconds, my humanity is shed. The Tiger is in the house now. And the Tiger likes one thing – blood. I see the Succubus throw me a startled look before she heads for the door. The crowd is roaring their approval. I save the Tiger for the toughest fights – they rarely get to see him. A thought crosses my mind – how many will I be able to kill in the escape? The Tiger is far more violent than my human half. But that question is from us both.
The Succubus is doing something. She got as close as she could to the guards on the other side of the fence, and seems to be talking to them. I watch as one of them stumbles towards her with a drunk look on his face. She looks over her shoulder and winks at me right before he unlocks the door. I sit back on my haunches for half a second, evaluating the crowd, before I launch myself forward. The Tiger roars his pleasure and snaps his jaws to the side, ripping a chunk of flesh out of someone.
Diesel’s eyes fluttered back open as he regarded Vesper with a scathing glare. “You have no fucking idea.” He walked away from the angel, towards the dark forest, lost in his thoughts. He had been able to move on from his murderous past and create a decent life. That place, and Zelloth, had no power over him anymore.
But Jezebel was still missing.
Ready For More?
Amelie Hunt has many more sexy shifters and feisty heroines in store for you… find more from authors Ophelia Bell, Vivian Wood, Sennah Tate, and Maeve Morrick! Turn the page for a full list of Amelie’s saucy series.
All The Amelie Hunt Presents Series
Ophelia Bell’s Black Mountain Bears
Clawed
Bitten
Nailed
Vivian Wood’s Winter Pass Wolves
Howl
Growl
Prowl
Sennah Tate’s Sunset Glade Panthers
Spark
Ember
Blaze
Maeve Morrick’s Arctic Station Bears
Snowbound
Snowman
Snowfall
Cass Reynold’s Emerald Isle Tigers
Scoundrel
Soldier
Scholar
About Cass Reynolds
Cass Reynolds is the author of the Emerald Isle Tigers series.
Cassidy is a paranormal romance author who wants to write urban fantasy when she grows up. When she's not writing, she can probably be found reading a book, making desserts, or playing fetch with her kitten. Yep. The cat plays fetch.She was a military brat growing up, which instilled a severe case of wanderlust in her soul. Her favorite authors include Ilona Andrews, Patricia Briggs, and Lisa Kleypas. She writes in a poor attempt to transcribe her daydreams in the hopes that they will entertain others as much as they entertain her.
For more information….
@cassidywrites
AuthorCassReynolds
cassreynolds.com
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About Amelie Hunt
Amelie Hunt is the hottest new purveyor of sexy shifter stories. Feisty, passionate, and romantic, Amelie draws on the best paranormal romance authors to bring you incredible tales of sexy shapeshifters, star crossed lovers, and hard-fought happily ever afters. With five incredible series under her belt, Amelie’s always on the prowl for something new, spicy, and sweet to bring her devoted readers...
For more information, find Amelie online!
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authorameliehunt
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Scholar (Emerald Isle Tigers Book 3) Page 6