Page 3 of Sapphire Flame
Grant rose into the air as Kryder levitated above the sandpit and moved in a beeline toward him. From the corner of his eye, he watched Ryan begin his retreat.
Grant called out loudly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Alpha.” He stayed at the back near the wall because there was plenty of room to maneuver.
He would do everything he could to stand up to Kryder, just short of challenge behavior. He felt his wolf fur begin to prickle his chest and form along the upper ridges of his cheeks. Keeping his temper in check was always easier said than done.
Kryder wore a t-shirt with cutoff sleeves which put his massive guns on display. One right hook had knocked more than one wolf out cold.
His long, wavy dark brown hair was parted down the middle. Two thick braids framed his scarred face while the bulk of his hair hung down his back. He slowed on approach and dropped to within inches of Grant. He was three-hundred pounds of fierce muscle and the support structure of the arena seats shook with a thud as his heavy boots hit the walkway.
Grant dropped down to match him.
Half of Kryder’s intimidation came from his face. He had a thick nose that must have been broken before hisaltertransformation. His olive skin was pitted and scarred across the left cheek in three deep and very old knife wounds. His eyes, which may have been brown when he was human were now permanently amber.
Kryder came from a different time. He’d been in Five Bridges for almost thirty years. He’d been a mechanic before hisaltertransformation. A biker. A dope runner. A killer. What he’d become after moving to Savage was more of the same but heightened with new power, ability and sheer size.
Five Bridges, especially in the early years, had given men like Kryder a license to murder as they pleased. The Phoenix Police Department never interfered in crimes committed within the walls of theiralterworld.
Kryder didn’t believe for a second he’d done anything wrong in brutally raping an eighteen-year-old. It was his right as alpha.
Grant kept his gaze pinned to Kryder’s face. If he understood one thing about the man, it was the necessity of standing up to him, right up to the mark.
“I want all three women returned. They’re mine.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Kryder glanced around. “Where the fuck is Ryan? I saw him from across the way.” His voice was a deep, heavy bass. “His shitty paws are all over this.”
“Again, I don’t know what you’re talking about, Alpha.” He used his title purposefully. “I’ve been in here drilling the females. We’ve had rogue sightings all week and I don’t intend for any of our members to get caught or hurt by their kind.” This much was true. Whenever he spoke to Kryder, he chose each word carefully. He was never sure if Kryder heard them all, but specific words ignited his alpha duties even if he continued to hurt his own people.
“That’s right,” a female voice called out from the pit below where all nine women now stood in a line. Kryder turned to look at the intruder and Grant shook his head at her.
But she was one of the more stubborn females and apparently was going to have her say. “He’s been drilling us, Alpha, for the past hour. Only I wish to hell he’d drill me instead.”
Grant’s brows rose, and his lips twitched.
The bunched muscles of Kryder’s arm began to relax. To Grant’s surprise, the alpha guffawed, his broad chest shaking.
His amusement didn’t last long, however. He turned back to Grant a scowl drawing his features down. “I’m always amazed by futurists. Know what I mean? How did she know I’d be laughing when I’m furious with you?”
Grant tried a change of subject. “What futurist?” Was this a clue to how Kryder operated?
The alpha’s amber eyes hardened as he held Grant’s gaze. “None of your goddamn business. Now, where are the women?”
“I still don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Kryder’s lip twisted into a grimace. “Like hell you don’t.”
When Kryder’s fist came at him, Grant took it on the chin. The blow threw him against the cement wall. The impact knocked the wind out of him.
By long practice, he slid down to the floor. Every bone in his body wanted to leap back up and take Kryder on. He’d fly straight up into the air, tilt back slightly, pull his knees in just enough then with his forward momentum shove his boots into Kryder’s chest. He’d carry him across the seats, over the railing then ride him down to the sandpit and the battle would be on.
He’d wanted to do this from the time Kryder had ordered his wife’s murder.
Instead, he reined in his temper and stayed on the floor.
Kryder bunched his fists tight. “Get up, you piece of shit, and fight me like a man.”
Grant spit blood from his mouth, closed his eyes in what he trusted was a sickly manner then rolled onto his stomach. He’d feigned passing out a dozen times in the past.
