Page 19 of Captive Mate
Unfortunately, he was right. World War II had been the last gasp of truly international — well, anything, as it turned out. Machine guns? Fine, supernaturals could just avoid them, heal from the wounds, or live in more remote places. Atom bombs? Not so much. A huge coalition of supernaturals of all stripes got together, eliminated the existential threat along with a few dozen world leaders, and reorganized the world in the process. Patchwork local governments had been the result, and larger groups like the PAC weren’t all that helpful if you didn’t already have clout of your own. Not that I gave two shits about politics, but I knew I was on my own in the world — and so were the Armitages.
“And Fenwick’s powerful enough to matter,” Matthew said, his voice a raspy snarl. He was losing his self-control. Fuck. “You can fight me here and now to settle it while he observes to make sure there’s no interference. Or you can fuck off.”
The two councilors both turned as one, protesting — but it was too late. A challenge like that couldn’t be withdrawn.
And Parker was — stepping back? Wait. Alarm bells were jangling so loudly in my skull I was surprised no one else could hear them. He was still furious, but that smug smile blooming on his face didn’t bode well.
“I accept,” he said. “And Tyler will fight for my pack.”
Matthew’s fists clenched. “You’ll fight for yourself, you coward —”
“It’s my right to designate my second,” Parker bellowed over him. “And I’ve chosen Tyler. Have your brother fight for you if you want, I don’t give a fuck.”
He did give a fuck, though. He wanted Matthew to fight Tyler. Those alarms were whooping shrieks now. Something was wrong.
Matthew had let go of my arm somewhere along the way, but I was still pressed up against his back, keeping contact. I wrapped a hand around his bicep and gave it a squeeze. “Matthew, don’t do it,” I hissed as quietly as I could, hoping only he, or maybe he and Ian, would be able to hear. “If he wants you to, it’s the wrong move.”
Matthew shook me off. “If you think you’re too weak to take me, I’ll fight him,” Matthew ground out. “Stand back then. Where it’s safe. You probably wouldn’t give me much of a fight, anyway.”
“Matt, come on,” Ian was arguing. “I’m your enforcer, it’s my job —”
“This isn’t the time for posturing,” Jennifer put in, sounding furious. “This wasn’t the plan —”
“Fighting you is beneath me,” Parker said, with an arrogant lift of his chin. He was pissed, though, I could tell, it was obvious…why wasn’t he rising to the bait? “Tyler, you’re up.”
In a moment of strange synchronicity, I turned my head just as Nate turned too. We stared at each other with matchingWhat the fuck?expressions on our faces. “There’s something wrong here,” Nate mouthed to me. Well, no shit. I grimaced back. There was, but there wasn’t a fucking thing either one of us could do about it.
Matthew stepped forward to meet Tyler, and I hung back by Ian’s side, my heart doing a triple-time jig in my chest.
Everyone else took a few steps back, clearing a circle for the combatants. Fenwick was frowning but relaxed, Dor was leaning on his sword like a nineteenth-century dandy with his cane and looking mildly interested, and Jennifer and Paul were muttering to each other. Paul had his phone out. Probably texting the rest of the pack council.
Ian looked like he was about to explode, but Nate had him in hand, whispering urgently in his ear.
And on our side, that left me, standing by myself like the last kid to be chosen for a game.
Now that Matthew wasn’t right in front of me and Parker had withdrawn to the other side of the clear space between our two groups, Parker had a clear line of sight to me.
Oureyes met. His glowed with rage and lust and avid greed, like he was picturing holding me down and forcing me to his will. And making me hurt for all the trouble I’d caused him by running away. He licked his lips, slowly, and made a gesture with one hand that couldn’t be misinterpreted.
I shuddered and shot Matthew a sidelongglance. He was my hope here — and I had no idea if he could even fight worth a damn. Ian was known as a brutal fighter, and he generally took on the pack’s fights as Matthew’s enforcer and second. Could Matthew hold his own? What the fuck would happen if he couldn’t? If I didn’t need to be alive to keephimalive, would his pack just hand me over?
They might — or they might fight Parker and his goons and then kill me themselves. That would honestly be better, since it’d be quick.
Matthew had to win this fight. Hehadto.
He stood still, not posturing, not giving anything away. Tyler stepped forward to meet him, baring his teeth. His claws were out but he didn’t show any sign of shifting fully. Most weres didn’t, in fights like this; a half-shift gave a good balance between power and damage-dealing ability and still being able to grapple if necessary. A full shift was better for hunting, or long-distance running, or stealth, than it was for a fight.
There was something wrong about Tyler, now that I looked at him more closely. Something…off. I couldn’t put my finger on it.
Something magical? Maybe.Fuckthese manacles. It was like being blind and deaf, being deprived of senses I’d possessed since I was a child.
I turned to Nate, hating that I needed to depend on him for anything but knowing he was most likely to be able to interpret whatever I was not-seeing, but as I opened my mouth, it was already too late.
With a roar of challenge, Tyler leapt forward and slashed his claws at Matthew’s neck.
Chapter 8
Cheats Never Prosper
