Page 36 of Feral

“— and then you help me with a suspect.”

And there it was. James only ever appeared to break the rules when it was for a very good reason. Sometimes I wondered at the mental gymnastics he must have to perform to do his job and not infringe on his moral code.

“Besides,” he continued, “I think you need someone you can truly unleash on. And that’s not anyone else here.”

“Ya have a point.”

Just then the announcer called our names. I tossed back the whiskey and followed James onto the low canvas mat.

We both made a show of stretching, whipping the audience into a bit of a frenzy as they realized they were going to see two enormous beings beat the shit out of one another. I had to confess that their excitement was contagious. I hadn’t been in a good brawl in too long.

“You both know the rules,” the announcer, a short fella that looked half Goblin said. “No claws, no teeth, no supernatural powers. Grappling is fine unless the opponent taps out. We’re not going for the kill so if you start to frenzy, we’ll use the cattle prod, got it?”

We both nodded and squared off with one another. As my focus narrowed to James, I slipped past the memories of Daphne’s skin, the sound of her breathy moans as I ground against her. All that was left was the giant gargoyle in front of me. Even the excited shouts of the crowd had dulled to the background.

When the bell rang, I struck first with a sharp jab to the face, followed by a body blow. James was ready for it and blocked my second punch. He followed it with an upper cut that sent me stumbling back. I tasted blood on my tongue and grinned at him.

Now this was what I came here for.

After that it was a wild flurry of blows, neither of us holding back. Since James couldn’t put on his stone skin, I was saved from getting pummeled by fists made of granite, but he still hit harder than a truck. Soon, James grabbed onto me, grappling with me to try and throw me to the mat. If he’d been in earnest, I would’ve been done for, but he was holding back.

“The bookie is funneling artifacts through here,” he whispered in my ear. “I placed bets on the previous fights, and I’ll take him when I go to collect. Wanna be my back up? Blow off more steam?”

I grinned.

“Do ya even need to ask?”

“Let me throw you to the mat while you’ve still got some fight in you.”

I snorted.

Usually, I would bite my own hand off rather than throw a fight. But James and I went way back, and if he needed my help, I couldn’t say no.

“Fine,” I growled, “but ya owe me a good pint.”

“Deal.”

He threw me down and pinned me to the canvas. I tapped out and the sounds of groans and triumphant yells mingled in the air.

James helped me up and we shook, both of us wiping blood off our faces.

“That was fun,” James said as we made our way to the back. “You should come by the Archive gym some time. Show the younger agents how it’s done.”

“No thanks.”

“Still a grumpy loner?”

I huffed out a breath and ignored the jibe. He knew I was, and I didn’t have any reason to change it.

Except one. A bonny lass with dark hair and eyes that shine when she looks at me…Damn it.

“Where’s this bookie?” I growled, doing my best to keep Daphne in the furthest cavern of my mind.

“C’mon.”

I followed James to the bar and he flashed his Archive badge, indicating that the Fae bartender should be quiet. The man nodded, oddly unfazed and motioned at the door to the left of the bar.

James barely fit through it and I wondered how many times he had to use his glamour to shrink his size with most places too small for him. But I shoved the distraction away as we walked down the short hall to the doorway on the left. The room was in complete disarray as the young Orc began to shove clothes in a bag, his movements frightened. When the floorboards creaked under our weight, his head flew up, lavender eyes widening. But it wasn’t James that he was staring at, it was me.

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