Page 49 of Promise & Artem

He knew that Nero would keep coming after him and Promise, so he had to make sure that he didn’t come for them anymore.

Adir’s face was bloody and swollen from where Artem’s fists had hit home, and he couldn’t use one arm. But he still fought, still growled and kicked and moved. Artem bellowed in anger as Nero tossed a blade to Adir, who slashed Artem’s thigh. Before he could strike again, Artem disarmed him and lifted him into the air, tossing him with all his strength into the bleachers. The male hit the top bleacher with a crunch and flopped over the side, landing face down on the concrete.

Snorting in anger, Artem turned to deal with Nero.

But he was gone.

The far door was open leading outside, and the sounds of sirens could be heard in the distance drawing closer. As soon as Nero’s people realized the cops were on the way, they abandoned the fights and scattered.

Axtyn put his hand on Artem’s shoulder. They couldn’t talk in their shifts, just grunt like bulls. He was surprised to see his dad had shifted too.

But judging by the unconscious and injured males around them, he knew that his dad and their friends had fought valiantly and prevailed.

“Can you guys shift back or do you need to bolt too? I don’t know how the police will react to you guys,” Taylor asked, wiping blood from a cut on his brow.

Artem and his dad nodded. Fighting had wiped the aggression from them, and while they normally would need time to return to normal, they could force themselves back to human form if they needed to.

So they did.

Calming his heart rate and breathing, Artem closed his eyes and thought about Promise, and how good it would feel to hold her in his arms again.

His human arms.

As his body returned to normal, he was thankful he’d at least put on workout pants that had been loose enough they hadn’t torn when he shifted, but his shoes were ruined and his shirt was ripped.

“Damn I liked that shirt,” his dad said, pulling off his torn shirt.

Artem smiled, doing the same. “Better a ripped shirt than being dead, though.”

“Definitely.”

Ian brought Promise back into the main room and Artem hugged her tightly, so thankful she was free and in his arms. He held her face gently to inspect her injuries. There was bruising around her nose and dried blood. He was pissed all over again at seeing her injuries.

“Does anything hurt but your face?” he asked.

“No,” she said, wrapping her hands around his wrists. “When it first happened I was dizzy from the punch, but that’s passed. Now it just aches.”

“I’m sorry you were hurt but I’m thankful it wasn’t any worse.”

“Me too, trust me.”

The police arrived a few minutes later, and Artem, Promise, and their friends gave statements and then watched the police load up the injured and unconscious and take them away.

Promise stood in Artem’s embrace in silence as the last of the police vehicles left several hours later and the red lights disappeared into the darkness.

“What will happen to them?” she asked.

“They’ll be processed and taken to the hospital,” Axtyn said.

“A judge isn’t going to look kindly on them,” Ian said. “The state of Pennsylvania hates illegal shifter fighting. If any of them know where Nero is, they might get a good deal, but I doubt any of those guys know where he went.”

“To the B&B?” Promise asked, looking at Artem.

“I doubt it,” he said. “Adir died when I threw him to the bleachers, so his right-hand male is gone. I’m sure Nero has a safe house somewhere, a place where he would go if things went tits up.”

She shivered. “I hope it’s far from here.”

Artem kissed the top of her head. “I hope so too.”

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